


You're Missing a Star Sans, Buddy

by TKWolf45



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Deaths, Gen, Implied Relationships, Implied Sexual Content, Noncon Drug Use, Torture, Trauma, Violence, but that means suffering until then, cursing, do not copy to other sites, evil wins temporarily, good ending because im weak, sorry the prose isn't super pretty D:
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2020-02-26 21:16:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 25
Words: 30,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18725140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TKWolf45/pseuds/TKWolf45
Summary: He thought everything would finally go his way, especially after he killed his brother. Instead, this new chaos seems worse.





	1. Dream...?

**Author's Note:**

> EXTRA NOTES: Ink belongs to Meybi/Comyet (tumblr), Nightmare & Dream belong to jokublog (tumblr), Blue[Swap!Sans]/Swap!Papyrus belongs to UT community, Error belongs to CrayonQueen (tumblr) 
> 
> Will update if needed!

Ink felt the chaos before he had fully woken up. His cell phone was ringing seconds later. “INK! IT’S MY BROTHER! WE HAVE TO GO!”

He made sure his brush and sash were on him before diving into a puddle and appearing next to Dream. Dream had his bow and arrow out, but not notched. “Dream?” Ink asked.

They were in a neutral Underswap where the resident Sans, Blue, hadn’t been killed. Yet. Instead, the tiny blue skeleton was facing the monstrous and goopy sibling of Dream.

“Nightmare!” Ink teleported in front of Blue, facing the octo-skeleton. “What brings you here? Where are your friends?”

“They’re currently occupied,” came his deep, gurgled voice. “Error wasn’t joking when he said you and my brother would respond quickly.”

Ink glanced behind him, seeing Dream next to him. Blue stood on Ink’s other side, determined to fight for his own life and universe. The Star-Eyed Trio, reunited under less than pleasant circumstances.

The artist faced the corrupted brother, drawing his paintbrush. “It doesn’t really matter why you’re here. We’re going to protect this alternate universe.”

“The same boring spiel.” Nightmare put his hands in his pockets, lazily grinning at the trio.

“STOP!!” Blue’s brother shot forth some bones, and a shot from the orange Gaster Blast made Nightmare take a step back. His eyes narrowed at the taller orange-sweatshirt skeleton.

Nightmare tensed his shoulders, “Enough.” He disappeared into a puddle of goop and reappeared between them, skewering the souls of the resident Sans and Papyrus with his tentacles.

Dream’s star eyes turned into ovals of shock and Ink flinched. Blue and Papyrus shared a stunned look. Simultaneously, their bodies dusted and their souls shattered. Nightmare whipped a third tentacle around his brother’s neck, before yeeting him across the town. It was then that Ink realized they were in Snowdin. _Where was the human?_

Ink tightened his grip on the brush, but Nightmare’s fourth tentacle slapped the weapon away.

“W-why did you… do that…?” Dream coughed, struggled, and stood up from the snow. He’d lost his grip on his weapon. Nightmare tossed it towards Ink’s paintbrush, further from both the guardians.

“You should be happy,” Nightmare glanced at him, grinning, “At least they died together. Not that I can say the same as us, brother.” A tentacle found it’s way around Dream’s neck again. With a surge of strength, Nighmare broke Dream’s neck. It took longer for Dream’s soul to realize the body was dead, but slowly, painfully, Ink watched his oldest, closest friend drift to dust.

Even Nightmare looked surprised. At least, for a moment. He started laughing.

 _What color..? Green for surprise? Purple for paranoia? Blue to cry? Red to completely obliterate this gooping sack of shit?_ Ink couldn’t process the turmoil in his magic.

Ink reached for his sash. Nightmare swiped it away without even turning around. “I don’t think so.” He brought the sash to his hands, observing each of the colors individually. “Oh? That’s right, you can’t even feel your friends’ deaths. It’s your fault you know. You could have been a little quicker, but you weren’t.” He took one of the colors out. The pink one. And shattered it. The paint dripped through his fingers, spattering uselessly to the snow. “There’s no need for that one in a time like this. I wonder what these other ones do?”

Ink inched towards his brush and Dream’s staff, watching Nightmare’s back. _Where were the other nightmares? Surely they would’ve been delighted to help him?_ Past Nightmare, Ink saw Dream’s crown. The only thing left of him. The same thing could be said about Blue and Pap’s clothes. Grave markers, all of them. Ink thought he was going to be sick.

“You know how the AU monsters and humans gain LV? Killing. Obviously. Did you ever consider that it could work for creatures like us?”

Ink froze, his fingers inches away from the brush.

Nightmare took another color out, looking at it. The yellow one. “I doubt this is the one for fear.” He glanced at Ink and the brush. He disappeared into goop.

Ink snatched his brush, looking around. All the buildings were sealed shut with a hardened version of Nightmare’s goo, with dust lightly covering each building. There was a puddle of blood by the Christmas tree. Ink saw the human, dead, with a crudely tied bow in their hair. What a horrible joke.

“What are you getting at here, Nightmare? What’s the point? This world will just revive again, since it’s the creators’ wishes. Why are you causing problems here?”

“This is just a setting for us."

Ink whirled around, slashing the brush across Nightmare’s face, except the later stopped it with a tentacle. Ink blinked, watching it get ripped from his hands a second time. Nightmare broke it into several pieces, then pinned the artist down. “You still haven’t answered me about your paints,” he grinned maniacally.

“You killed your own brother. Why?”

Nightmare’s eye was already wide. In a blink, the oval-shaped light turned into a star. “Ah yes, what a crazy amount of emotion that was. Nothing compared to what I’m sure you’ll experience.”

Ink stared in horror at the starlight eye. “How…?”

“You’re missing a Star Sans, buddy,” Nightmare tipped his head. “Happy to see me?”

He pried open Ink’s mouth and poured all the colors in at once. Ink’s eyelights went out in a panic. He thrashed against the tentacles, trying to fight the octo-skeleton and the emotions his paints were bringing up. Nightmare hadn’t even bother pouring them in one at a time, but elected to let them mix in Ink’s body.

He watched Ink going through emotional attack after emotional attack, intrigued that the skeleton didn’t glitch out or get a surge of power or something. He could feel each of the emotions through Ink, reveling in the despair and fear and panic it caused the artist. As one emotion seemed to settle, another fought it and took it’s place. Trust, happiness, anger, disgust, sadness, fear, surprise, and the variants thereof continued to battle until Ink tipped his head one way and vomited all the colors up. He was shaking, remains of the emotions still in his system.

“Oh. What a disappointment.” Nightmare released the artist and poised for the final blow.

Ink sat up quickly, inching away, still shuddering from puking. “You can’t kill me Nightmare. Error already tried multiple times. I keep coming back.”

“Perhaps. Dream will probably come back too. So will the brothers from this world. Everyone comes back.”

“Then why do this?”

He grinned. “It’s fun, obviously.” He took a step closer. The artist retreated, staring down the dark skeleton in front of him with an odd expression on his face. Nightmare paused. “What.”

“No… it’s got to be more than that. Don’t you know about the balance…? You can’t just kill Dream and expect no consequences.”

Nightmare tipped his head, his own eyelight still a star. “You’ve won yourself an extra five minutes, artist. What are you talking about?”

Ink stood, watching the other warily. “The balance. If one exists, there will also exist a counter-balance. That’s why you, Dream, Error and myself always seem to come back without a human reseting, even though our AUs are either nonexistent or a complete mess.”

“You’re telling me I can kill you and Dream whenever I want for as many times as I want? Perfect.” He stepped closer.

“What- no!” Ink flinched. “What I’m saying is that if you continue to kill us, a stronger version is bound to appear to try and keep the balance.”

“Or you’re just trying to talk your way out of your death.” Nightmare backed Ink into the outside wall of Grillby’s. He poised a sharp tentacle, at the artist’s tattooed neck. The star-eye was still active, and his grin hadn’t faded. “As entertaining as your story is, you’ve run out of time.”

Ink stared at his new enemy, realizing just how dangerous he’d become. He drew a smaller paintbrush from his back pocket and drew a line in the ground. Nightmare snarled and lunged, but the artist forced himself through the thin line to safety.

Nightmare roared at the empty wall of Grillby’s, “You’re only delaying your demise, artist!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Yes, I still have no self-control. Please accept this fic based on some comment exchanges between myself and TheNor on Deviantart (https://www.deviantart.com/tkwolf45/art/You-re-Missing-a-Star-Sans-Buddy-796393908). Yeah, the art and this fic have the same name! 
> 
> Your chaotic content creator,  
> TKWolf45


	2. Help Me, or Don't

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The artist gets a few surprise guests. Spoiler: ~~The guests are assholes.~~

The artist landed near his home in the Doodle Sphere. The emotions he had vomited were quickly starting to fade, and the quickly fading mess of emotions was the first thing on his mind. He’s got to replace Broomy so he would have a better time traveling between worlds, too. He made sure to quickly write that on his scarf. Then, he was ransacking his home for the spare vials. He… he kept spare vials, didn’t he? Just in case? 

And the “just in case” just happened. 

Ink didn’t understand it. Couldn’t. 

_Where were those vials?!_

Nightmare and Dream fought constantly, just like Error and Ink did. The only difference was that Nightmare never even tried to kill Dream. And obviously Dream wouldn’t kill his own brother. Until today, the brothers killing each other was unthinkable. It was only a faint sense of hope that had Ink thinking Dream would come back. He had to, right? Since the balance of the world was at stake? He’d come back. Just like Ink did. 

Ink paused, a fading sense of doubt lingering in his bones. Of course those emotions would linger, but the positive ones would fade. Dream… he didn’t want to think about the death of the Guardian of Positivity but- 

Ink’s eyes turned to exclamation points. _The AUs!_ Dream’s death would probably affect them much faster than Ink’s would! Especially if Nightmare decides to go harvesting now. 

Frantically, Ink tore through his house, searching every nook, cranny, and loose floorboard. Panic, albeit fading, was still in his bones. 

There was a knock on the door. Ink whipped his head around, seeing Error. The destroyer grinned. “Seems like you’ve had a tough day.” 

“Not now, Error. I’m not in the mood.” 

“I am. Where are your little vials? You can’t fight properly without them, and I don’t want a weak, broken little artist to fight.” 

Ink ignored him, looking through his room slower. Error clicked his tongues, stringing the artist up and observing him. “Missing your vials, and your precious Broomy, aren’t we? Nightmare really did a number on you.” 

“How did you-?” 

“He went crazy and killed his gang. I happened to be away on some important business.” 

“…Undernovela and chocolate?” 

“Shut up,” a light blue blush dusted Error’s cheeks, “When I came back, his LV had grown to 50.” 

“That… that’s impossible. It stops at 20.” 

“Apparently, when you kill creatures that have killed humans, you can gain more LV. At least, that’s what he was saying.” 

Ink didn’t bother squirming. “Error, listen to me. The balance is at stake. He killed Dream.” 

“So?” 

Ink growled. “Why don’t you care?! I’m soulless, yet I still see this as a bad!” 

“I see it as an opportunity to finish my mission.” 

“You think because Nightmare defeated Dream, he’s going to defeat me too? Who’s to say you aren’t next? He needs negative worlds, not non-existing ones.” 

Error chuckled. “It’s only a matter of time before you stop caring and stop remembering.” He released the artist from his strings. “If you’re looking for your spare vials? They were in the pantry. I think I’ll put off Undernovela watch this show for a while,” Error disappeared into a portal, laughing. 

Ink raced downstairs, seeing the empty vials on the counter. There were some colors drying in the sink. 

“No…” 

Despair. 

He grabbed the paintbrush from his sash, except there weren’t any paints to use. 

It all slipped away. 

Blank. Empty. Boring. 

The color in the skeleton’s vision faded until everything was just shades of grey and black. This was familiar. Neutral. 

He slowly stood up. What was the point? He thought that there was a reason for living, but he couldn’t remember it. He looked down at his clothes, reading some of the writing on his scarf. “Don’t forget to shower.” “Oh this new MTT soda is delicious! I should share some with Blue when he makes some tacos for me!” “I should ask Red what kind of spices he uses in their Fell chocolate. Maybe I can make a peace dessert for Error?” Closer to his neck were notes about someone named Dream including a small list of their favorite things. Next to Dream’s name was “BFFs!” and a bunch of drawn hearts. The skeleton wasn’t sure what that was supposed to mean. 

Wasn't sure how to care anymore. 

His eyes traveled down to he very bottom of the scarf, where words were almost carved into the fabric, “Tit for Tat”. 

… alright? 

The skeleton let it go. It wasn’t important. Nothing was. 

The front door opened, and a dark figure walked in. “Oh Inky, what are you doing?” 

The empty skeleton had opened the refrigerator door, pulling out one of MTT’s sodas inside, and cracked it open before realizing what he was doing. Who cares? Nobody. He took a sip before turning to the intruder. Blinked. Color returned, though much less saturated. A faint trickle of… recognition? 

His name was Ink. 

The intruder was Nightmare. “You’re drinking soda to celebrate your friend’s death?” 

Ink didn’t bother answering. Instead, he desperately drained the soda. The soda wasn’t as concentrated as the paint, in terms of emotions, but damned if that was going to stop Ink. Nightmare blinked, intrigued. His eyelight was still lit with a star. He grinned. “How about we make a deal, hmm? I have something you need.” 

“I don’t need anything.” 

“You do. You’re already losing your emotions, and the bit that came back with the soda isn’t going to stay. We both know that.” Ink blinked. He was right, damn him. They were already slipping away. Nightmare’s tentacles twitched. “I can give you something that will help with that.” 

“After you wasted all my inks on me, trying to get me to overdose on emotions? I don’t need anything you’re offering.” 

“Even if it were like a soul?” 

Ink growled, “Allow me to rephrase my words. I’m _not taking_ anything you’re offering.” 

Nightmare wrapped a tentacle around Ink’s body, immobilizing him. He brought the artist close to him. “Too bad I wasn’t actually offering.” A second tentacle unwrapped a black-ish purple apple. 

Ink stared at it, trying to muster the horror any other normal person would’ve felt. “You can’t…! You can’t give me that!” 

He didn’t stop, prying the artist’s mouth open. “You’ve spent a long time protecting a thankless universe,” the lord of darkness cooed. “Take a break and enjoy a treat.” He covered the artist’s mouth, making sure the other swallowed the bite of apple. Ink shuddered and started coughing. Nightmare forced more pieces into his mouth, until the whole thing was gone. “You’ve deserved it, my friend.”


	3. Well, that was less than pleasant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Underswap resets, and Error and Nightmare get to talking.

Underswap reset with next to no issues. Stretch woke up sweating and cursing under his breath. He glanced up the stairs, hoping his brother Blue was still asleep. He walked into the kitchen and flicked on the light. Except his brother was there. But it wasn’t his brother. Unless Blue decided to wear a yellow cape with a sun on it instead of his usual blue scarf. 

The other skeleton whirled around, eyes wide, at least three tacos crammed into his mouth. He finished them in one gulp and stared at Stretch. Then the tears were flowing. Stretch wrapped his arms around the guardian of positivity, rubbing his head. “Yeah… I know buddy…” 

Dream continued to sob until he was tired. He rubbed his eyes, staring at the wetness in Stretch’s hoodie. “S-sorry…” 

“Don’t worry about it bro- er, Dream.” He knelt, facing the smaller skeleton. “Are you going to be okay?” 

Dream sniffed, trying to scrub the tear streaks off his skull. “I, uh… I’ve never been killed before…” 

“…Yeah.” 

“Well, that was less than pleasant,” Dream tried to chuckle. 

Stretch half-smiled, rubbing his head again. “You don’t have to force yourself to feel better yet. Let’s go chill at Muffet’s for a bit, yeah?” 

“I don’t-” 

“You need a moment or two to pull yourself together. I’ll leave a message for Sans, letting him know we’re going out.” Stretch stood and wrote a note by the can of sprinkles. Dream followed him out the door as they walked over to Muffet’s. 

They walked into the tea and donut shop, sitting at the bar counter. Muffet immediately had a bottle of honey ready for Underswap’s Papyrus. She turned to Dream, tipping her head. Each of her eyes blinked one after the other. “And what would you like, deary?” 

“Just a donut please…” 

Muffet provided the donut, smiling brightly as Dream paid both for the donut and Stretch’s drink upfront. 

Stretch pulled out a cigarette and fiddled with it. When Muffet turned away to other customers, Stretch looked at Dream. “That’s really the first time you were killed?” 

“I wasn’t expecting to be resurrected, much less in your world…” Dream picked at the donut. 

“Hey, don’t worry about it.” 

Dream paused. “Where’s Ink?” 

Stretch blinked, putting his drink back down. “I don’t know… I fear that list will just increase for us.” 

They exchanged glances. Dream grabbed his donut and the two made their way back to Stretch’s house. Blue met them at the door, surprised to see them. Until he saw the drink in his brother’s hand. He put his fists on his hip bones. “You lazybones! You’re supposed to be at your post! Not starting your day with drinking at Muffet’s again!” 

“Sorry bro, it was urgent.” 

“Drinking your mornings away at Muffet’s instead of working is _not urgent!”_

Dream appeared from behind Stretch, waving. “Hey Blue.” 

“Dream! Oh, I didn’t know you were with Dream! How are ya, pal?” 

The guardian chuckled weakly. “I’ll be okay. Just tired. I’m going to go look for Ink though. I don’t know where he is.” 

Stretch was staring at his older brother with suspicion. “Hang on a second, what’s the last thing you remember?” 

Blue blinked. “You’ve to the energy to question me instead of being at your post, Paps?” 

“I’m serious Sans.” 

The tiny skeleton’s shoulders dropped. “Nightmare.” 

“You remembered that reset?” 

“I remember flashes from the others, and I know it’s been a long time since we’ve had one… but the lastest reset? …I think it was left super clear in my mind on purpose. But worry not, for I, the Magnificent Sans will not let that silly reset stop me from my duties! Mwueheheh!” 

Stretch couldn’t decide between frowning at their situation or smiling at his brother’s optimism. He decided the later, continuing with, “You’re so cool, bro. You should go to the Ruins. Make sure the human is okay when they come out.” He turned to Dream. “We can’t help too much with finding Ink right now, but we can try after we know our world is okay.” 

“Don’t worry about it, Paps! Just have some tacos ready for us when we come back, okay?” Dream smiled. 

Stretch smiled back, more genuinely this time. Hope hesitantly warmed his fragile soul. Blue squeezed Dream tight, tears forming in his sockets. “I’ll make sure you both get all the tacos you could ever want and more!!!” he let go and raced to the Ruins. 

Dream opened a portal and waved bye to Stretch. He emerged on the other side in Ink’s house. 

Or what was left of it. 

It was a complete disaster. The entire house looked like it had been blown apart. Pieces were scattered all over the blank dimension. Large puddles of ink stood still everywhere or dripped off larger pieces of house. Dream picked through the wreckage, looking for evidence of… well, he wasn’t sure. 

He found the kitchen sink still intact, though blown several meters away from where it was originally. Colored paints were dried just on the outside of the drain. Small bits of shattered glass was evident everywhere. Then Dream found the epicenter of destruction. There was a circle in the middle of what used to be the kitchen, and a pair of dried goop footprints just within it. Dream was barely able to restrain his immediate fear and anger. “Brother… what have you done to Ink…?” 

——

Speaking of the artist, he’d never felt so inspired before. For what else could prompt this sudden burst of energy to tattoo everyone he saw? His new brush channeled the ink flowing from his eyes flawlessly. Every person he saw inspired a new painting from him to them. He didn’t understand why they were giving him horrified looks, or calling him Killer. Killer? Wasn’t that maniac dead? Well, he probably reset and is back in his home dimension now. The artist continued grinning and gifting every single monster and human he saw with a small tattoo, usually on their hands or face. Whatever he could reach first. He didn’t seem to be hurting anyone, but Nightmare was still satisfied at the fear and confusion the artist was doling out. Just barely. 

_Why didn’t the apple affect him negatively, like it’s supposed to?_ Nightmare growled to himself. The artist just looked like he’d completely lost his mind. Well, lost it further from when he’d started talking to the original Broomy. 

A glitchy portal opened next to Nightmare, and Error stepped through. He followed the lord of negativity’s gaze and watched the artist too. “Huh. To be honest, I was expecting more.” 

“So was I.” 

“How is your LV?” 

“Not high enough. Yours?” 

Error sneered, “You know I can change mine whenever I want.” 

Nightmare twitched. “Maybe I should accept whatever LV you give me.” 

“And lose your only living ally?” 

“You think the gang won’t rejoin me?” 

“Not after the stunt you did, with skewering them.” 

He glanced at the destroyer. “I could always… convince them.” 

Error laughed. “Convince? Good luck.” 

“Hiya!” 

The destroyer jumped away from the voice. The artist stared at him with blank eye sockets, a wide grin, and his paintbrush poised. “Mind if I give you a gift?” 

“Don’t you dare touch me, stain.” 

The artist tipped his head slightly, “Well, that’s uncalled for. Stain isn’t my name.” More ink flowed from his eyes. It was almost like looking in a mirror… and that he was crying. It freaked Error out. Except the artist didn’t have his vials. Wait a second… 

Error peered closer at the artist’s outfit. He wasn’t wearing his sash or scarf, and his shirt was completely covered in ink stains, presumably from the junk that still flowed from his eye sockets and mouth. He tipped his head the other way. “Liking what you see, or are you just a pervert?” 

“Heh. I’m just trying to figure this new Ink out-” 

The artist loomed close to Error and painted a quick little design on his skull. The destroyer jerked away a second too late. “The fuck? What the fuck was that?! What did you do?!” 

“Hmph,” his grin widened. “You almost look cute with that!” 

A blue blush appeared on his face. He scoffed, “Shut up, airhead.” He opened up a glitchy portal. Nightmare watched Error glance back at them. Watched the destroyer try to hide his emotions. Watched the portal close behind him. 

The artist shrugged. “He’ll come to like it.” Nightmare looked to him, eye narrowed. The artist nodded, seeming to stare absently at where Error had left from, “Yeah. They all will.” 

“Of course they will.” 

_Fear._

_Error actually feared this freak._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to try and post once a week, but I might get impatient and post twice. ~~At the moment of posting chapter 3, I'm writing chapter 6 hahaha~~


	4. Ink...? Who is that?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why can't all surprises be _good?_

Dream sat for a long time in the Doodle Sphere trying to figure out what to do. 

He had no idea where to start looking for his best friend. 

The artist was _already_ notoriously hard to keep track of. Even the most mundane method proved nearly impossible, since he tended to forget his phone in the worst places. Dream remembered Ink slinking into his house to look for a spare phone after Ink had dropped it in the container used to wash his brushes. Usually he left those containers empty when brushes were in them, but it was one forgetful act after another that ended with a paint-ladened and waterlogged phone. “On the bright side, it’s its own masterpiece!” Ink had said when he was caught. 

“Yeah, to represent your memory!” Dream wasn’t even mad at the time, instead, laughing because it was so genuinely _Ink._

More tears fell down Dream’s face. He wished they could go back to that. So he kept up hope that maybe they could. 

There were only two places the keeper of dreams could think to look. Both were unpleasant, but Dream didn’t have much of a choice. He took one last look around the ruined house before remembering. Paints! Or soda. Would Ink still respond to…?

Dream hurriedly opened a portal, quickly purchasing a soda from a surprised Underswap Muffet. He shut the portal, soul thrumming nervously. Whatever Nightmare did to him… it was still Ink, right? Dream cracked open the soda and shakily poured it onto the ground. “I-Ink?” 

——

Across the multiverse, the artist paused his handiwork on an overeager Fell youth. He could’ve sworn…? No, nobody’s calling to him. But that name… or was it the voice? Why did it sound so familiar…? 

_“Ink? Pal, are you there?”_

The artist tipped his head. He felt a tug in his bones as a puddle of soda appeared at his feet. He looked down at it. “Huh. Well, this may as well happen,” he shrugged and sunk through. 

The Fell youngster stared as the tattoo artist and the soda puddle vanished before their eyes. 

——

Dream leapt back when the artist jumped up from the puddle. The two stared at each other, one in amazement, the other in horror. 

A grin spread across the artist’s face, letting more ink flow out the corners of his mouth. “Dream! Wow, my mind must really be truly busted if I’m seeing you here!” 

The guardian of positivity shakily raised his hands to his friend’s face. “Ink? What…?” 

The smile vanished as the guardian finally rested bony hands on the artist’s cheekbones. Dream could almost see his friend working things out. The artist narrowed his eyes and stepped back. “No, you’re just a hallucination. A bad joke. Dream is dead. Stop playing with me Nightmare.” 

“What? But Ink, I-” 

“Ink…? Who is that? I’m Tat.” 

Dream couldn’t believe it. “No, you are Ink!” 

“I’m not!” the artist started to look confused. “No… no I’m not Ink. Ink wouldn’t’ve let Dream die. Yeah, that’s right, Ink’s dead. He was killed with Dream.” 

“But I came back! I’m Dream! I’m really alive! _Ink!”_

Ink- or rather, Tat, grabbed the guardian’s cape and brought him close, hissing, “Don’t mess with me, Nightmare. We both know they are dead. You killed one. You helped me kill the other. They. Are. Dead.” Tat tipped his head to the side, almost purring, “Or don’t tell me you’ve come to regret killing your brother?” 

Dream’s eyes went dark. Fear and sorrow thrummed through his soul. At any moment, his brother really will be there. Dream couldn’t have that. “I’m sorry, Ink.” He raised a hand, his staff forming. 

Tat went to snatch the staff away, but it felt too hot to the touch. He snarled and jumped away from Dream. His new paintbrush dripped ink. Dream stared at his best friend, realizing his eye lights hadn’t returned the entire time. The guardian posed with his staff. “Stop it, Ink! It’s really me! I don’t want to hurt you!” 

“Sometimes, we’ve got to do things we don’t want. We’ve just got to live with the consequences.” Tat swung his brush at the guardian of dreams. 

Dream blocked much of the ink with a light barrier from his staff. He couldn’t remember ever fighting against Ink, only with him. He knew almost everything the artist did in a fight. But now? Dream didn’t recognize any of the signals this skeleton was exhibiting. Ink was usually much more telling, even without paints in his system. He’d always had that hesitation to not hurt anyone. 

This new skeleton? No warnings. No hesitation. No mercy. 

“Dammit,” Dream dodged another swipe of the brush and the resulting ink splatter. The guardian looked around, panting, and noticed the chaotic splatters were starting to look like a circle. 

He turned back to the tattooist, whose eyesockets raised, the grin widening, “You realize that you’re not in control of us anymore? Your reign is over now, guardian. Both of you.” He raised the brush again, the splatters of ink rising.

Dream wiped perspiration from under his crown. He frowned one last time at the creature that was his best friend. “I’ll save you, Ink. I promise.” He snapped his fingers and was gone. 

Tat startled. The ink that had risen all struck where the guardian just was before splashing back to the ground. The tattooist whipped his head around every which way. “Where did…? STARS, DAMMIT!” He threw his brush to the ground, yelling, “Nightmare!” he picked the brush back up, immediately fretting over it. It was undamaged, thankfully. He yelled again, “NIGHTMARE, dammit, get your ass here!” 

Within the minute, the tattooist had been transported through his own shadow to the lord of darkness. The echo of negativity vibrated within the tattooist, though when the lord was close enough, it vanished to the goopy skeleton. Tat was still angry. “My prey disappeared.” 

“Did you tattoo them beforehand?” 

“NO! What part of _disappeared_ don’t you get?! I thought it was you messing with me.” 

Nightmare narrowed his eye at the tattooist. “Me? Why would I mess with one of my only allies?” 

“Running low on food?” Tat sneered. “Though I don’t know why you would use me. Whatever’s stewing in these bones surely isn’t enough for you.” 

“… you mean to tell me that Dream is alive?” Nightmare appraised the corrupted skeleton. _You’ve got much more negativity in you than you think…_

“Dream? Oh your twin?” Tat frowned at Nightmare. “Hold on, why are you here? I have some business to attend to.” 

Nightmare glared at the tattooist. Was his memory really still that bad? Or was he trying to cover something up… “What business does a multiversal freelance tattoo artist such as yourself have, Tat?” 

“Don’t you think you’ve answered yourself there?” 

“Huh, I suppose so.” He opened a portal for the tattooist. “Well, off you go, I guess.” 

Tat walked through without a glance back. When the portal closed, Nightmare sensed a second presence behind himself. “You think you can trust him as much as it seems?” 

“I don’t trust anyone, Error. What are you doing here?” 

“Just seems like you’ve gone soft for… what name is he going by? Tat?” the glitch snickered. “He’s still got to have a pun to his name, doesn’t he?” 

Nightmare turned to him, “Dear Error, are you jealous? Did I make a bad boy of your poor, messy, innocent Ink, and now you’re here to bother me about him?” 

Error scoffed, “My innocent Ink? What are you on? That stain has been a pain in my ass for as long as I can remember.” 

The amusement dropped from the lord’s voice, “Then why are you here, Error.” 

The glitch sneered, “You’ve been restraining the powers in you for a while. I was just wondering when you were going to let loose.” 

Nightmare’s star eyelight returned, and a wide grin graced his face again. “That’s for me to know.” 

“What, and for me to find out?” 

“Heh. Now you’re getting it.”


	5. Then Do It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now we've got stalkers _and_ bad vibes!

Error followed the tattooist, watching him from the shadows. The annoying stain seemed cheerful enough, tattooing basically everyone he came into contact with. Some gave him Gs or food as payment. Others were confused, if not scared of him. But he didn’t hurt anyone, so everyone eventually got a tattoo from him. He moved between several worlds, though sometimes at night, he’d sit and stare at the stars, or whatever that world deemed to be stars at the time. 

It was really strange. The marks he left on everyone were nearly identical looking flowers, and looked like tattoos, but he used a paint brush for each of them. Nobody felt pain from his symbols. Ever. But the marks were more permanent than tattoos, so everyone had continued to call them that. 

Error scowled from behind a tree. They were currently in a hacked world where the human went a neutral route and still managed to break the barrier. It was nearing midnight, and the stain had decided to sit with a pack of soda and stare at the sky. He hadn’t moved from his spot, staring with that disturbingly familiar blank gaze. 

_Really? Still lacking the eyelights?_ It was a wonder anyone felt comfortable enough letting Tat near them. Sure, his clothes seemed to remind them of their somewhat generous guardian, but the flowing ink was reminiscent of Killer. In fact, Tat almost looked like a freak child of Ink and Killer. Just the thought of those two getting down and dirty filled Error with disgust. He knew the stain wasn’t interested in relationships like that, being both asexual and aromantic. But his new appearance as Tat just… felt wrong. Error frowned. Was he really worried about his enemy…? 

“Are you just going to stalk me, or are you going to buy me dinner first?” 

Error fidgeted as the blank gaze fell on him. He scowled and emerged from his hiding spot, sitting at least two feet away from the tattooist. “I’m not a stalker.” 

“I know. You’re a pervert. What can I do ya for, pervert?” A grin graced the creepy skeleton’s face, “Oh! Did you want another gift from me?” 

Error touched the flower tattoo Tat had painted on him so long ago. At the time, the glitch didn’t know it was a flower. He thought it was just some ink splat or something. Error couldn’t even remember how many chemicals he used to try and get rid of it. That was when he knew it was really a tattoo. Like, an immortal tattoo or something. He growled at Tat, “I don’t need your gifts, freak.” 

“I never asked if you _needed_ one. I asked if you _wanted_ one.” 

“What kind of…? Of course I don’t want your stupid gifts!”

“I understand you don’t trust me. I don’t expect you to.” 

“Good! Because it isn’t going to happen, Ink!” 

The skeleton chuckled, “I figured you would’ve gotten it by now, with all your perverted stalker habits. Ink is dead.” 

Error blushed brightly, “I’m not a-! You ought to get it through your skull, idiot, YOU are Ink!” 

“And you should know better than to speak ill of the dead. I am Tat, not Ink.” He turned his head slowly and faced Error. “But perhaps you’re grieving. Perhaps you wish I were Ink? Would it please you if I pretended to be your beloved stain?” 

The glitch felt the errors and pieces of him struggling to stay together with what the tattooist was implying. “Ink and I never had that kind of relationship.” 

Tat tipped his head slightly. “That so? You act like you two were lovers. Unless that’s what you wanted, and you’re just frustrated it didn’t happen?” 

“I’m going to make this very simple for you, ya lil shit,” Error jumped to his feet, summoning a broken red bone in his hand. “If you want to continue living and doing whatever creepy tattoo shit you’ve been doing to everyone, tell me what your ultimate goal is.” 

“My ultimate goal?” Tat seemed amused. 

“I’ve seen enough of the Multiverse to know that creatures like us have ultimate goals we strive for.” 

“And what’s your goal, Error?” 

“The same as it’s always been. Destroy any and everything.” 

“Then do it.” Tat stood and let the sharpened broken bone rest against one of his neck bones. 

Error growled. “You’re just going to come back.” 

“Then what’s your new plan?” The glitch blinked. Tat crossed his arms. “What’s taking you so long?” the tattooist asked impatiently. “You can achieve part of your goal right here and now. Kill me. Destroy this world. Move onto the next.” 

Error started glitching out, unable to fully process the taunting words. 

When he came to, Tat was sitting down again, staring up at the stars. “That’s what I thought. You keep saying what your goal is, yet you stopped trying to accomplish it. You’ve had how many opportunities to take Dream and Nightmare out? And you haven’t. Every single world you visited should have been ancient history. A bad memory. Instead, everyone is thriving, except for us.” 

Error shakily sat down, staring at the tattooist. “What are you saying?” 

Tat shrugged. “Hmm… that’s a great question. What do you think I’m saying?” 

“I think… you’ve lost your grip on reality by calling yourself by a different name and trying to get me to go on a murder spree with you.” 

“Heh… that’s what you think I’m saying huh… I’m disappointed.” Tat pulled out his paint brush, mumbling, “Guess there’s no reason to get rid of your tattoo yet…” 

“Wait, get rid of the tattoo-? Ink- Tat, what are you saying?!” 

“Figure it out, pervert.” Tat swiped paint on the ground and slid into it, disappearing. 

Error had lunged, missing Tat by only a finger bone. “STARS DAMMIT!” he ripped strings from his eyes, destroying the whole world in his rage. 

——

Dream wasn’t entirely sure where he landed. It was a blank blue place, reminiscent of the original Waterfall, but looked like it wasn’t done being created. He was exhausted from his fight with Ink. Sorry, Tat. Dream felt the tears welling up already. What happened to his friend? Even his lack of emotions… there was a dark intent in Tat’s bones that Dream couldn’t deny. He didn’t understand the intent or where it was directed or why. Only that it felt very familiar… of course, his brother would feel that same dark intent. The only other creature Dream could think of that had an odd vibe to him…? 

He groaned. Maybe he could just figure it out on his own. Yeah, Dream didn’t need to converse with _that_ creature. That would be suicide! But… who else could he ask…? 

Dream rubbed his forehead. “Why… how and why did it come to this…? I’d better make this quick…” He snapped his fingers, appearing in… 

The hideous, most neon nightmare Dream ever had the misfortune of witnessing. And he was willingly enduring it for Ink. _Ugh why…_ it hurt his eyes. _For Ink!_ He reminded himself. 

Fresh turned to Dream, a surprised grin on his face. “Heya, Dreamsicle! Isn’t this a surprise!” 

The faux emotions made Dream sick. “Hi Fresh. I’m not here to offer my body to you. I had a question.” 

“Tha’s alright, broski. What’s ya question?” 

“Are there any types of possessing creatures or magic that you know of? Besides yourself?” 

“Possessin’? I’m surprised at ya, bro!” Fresh walked closer to Dream, leaning close to his face. Dream tried hard to not cover his facial orifices, though his fight-or-flight instincts wanted him to. He needed Fresh to just answer the question as soon as possible so he can leave again. “Ya tryin’ ta all up’n possess someone?” 

“What? No of course not-” 

“Then why bother askin’ about it?” 

Dream fidgeted. “There’s been an… uh… epidemic! Of sorts?” 

Fresh peered over his sunglasses at Dream. The flaming soul in his eyesocket quivered too much for Dream’s comfort. Like it was being tortured… _or fed off of… duh._ “Mmhmm. Now, try’n ask me again, ‘scept without the lyin’, aight Dreamsicle?”

The guardian stiffened. “R-right… well, s-something happened with Ink-” 

“The artist cat?” Fresh paused, stepping back slightly. “What happened?” 

“My brother… did something to him? And now he’s got a different…” Dream cringed, “…vibe…” 

Fresh’s smile vanished. He took the sunglasses off. “You know my kind wouldn’t touch Ink. Since he’s soulless and all. But you still have yours.” He looked directly at Dream. “So if you’re implying that we did something to him through Nightmare, you’ve got about 3 seconds before I take your soul for my own.” The soul in his eye was shaking harder now. 

“N-no I- of course I’m not trying to imply anything!” Dream stomped his foot. “Why do you have to do that?! Why are you trying to distract me?” 

Fresh started laughing. “Ya tend ta get all worked up over tha lil stuff. I prefer ya when ya ask what’s on ya mind outright, Dreamsicle.” 

Dream took a breath and stared Fresh right back in his sockets. “I was just wanting to know if you knew any other creatures or things that could possess and change a soulless being.” 

The parasite almost looked surprised to see Dream staring directly at him. He put his sunglasses back on, much to the guardian’s relief. “Hmm… possession, eh? And ya broski’s the one Ink brah was with last?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Well… if tha’s the case, then I’d say Ink ate one of ya bad apples.” 

“What? But that… the tree is gone! There shouldn’t be anymore apples!” 

“Ya ever wonder ‘bout agriculture?” 

Dream stared at Fresh. “You… you’re implying that my brother _planted_ a _tree_...? From a nightmare apple?” 

“Jus' sayin' that it ain’t unlikely. Say, ya lookin a lil green there, broski. Ya good?” 

“I… have to go… thank you Fresh.” The parasite shrugged and waved bye. 

Dream made it back to his own house in the Doodle Sphere. He didn’t make it far before puking.


	6. Bitches still bite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Somewhat explicit torture! And feels, of course.

Nightmare’s eye blazed with starlight. He never felt so much strength and negativity swirling within him. Yes… with this much, he could- 

He turned, jerking slightly when he came face-to-face with Tat. He sighed. “What do you want?” _Where did you come from?_

Tat crossed his arms, taking a somewhat wide stance. “Just curious, boss,” he tipped his head slightly.

“About?” 

“Well, there’s a couple locked doors here. Just wondering why you’ve locked ‘em. Seems a little strange, especially if your original gang isn’t here anymore. You aren’t hiding any… skeletons in your closets, are ya?” Tat snickered. 

Nightmare leered close. “You wanna be one of them?” 

Tat shrugged. “Aren’t I already?” 

The lord of darkness wrapped a tentacle around Tat’s neck. “Not quite.” 

The tattooist’s eye sockets went wide, realizing the mistake too late. He clawed at the tentacle. “What are you doing?!” 

“You’re still much too cheerful. Especially for someone without a soul.” 

“No, I’m not! Don’t…! Don’t do this…!” 

They were already moving downstairs and into a small, disgusting smelling room. Tat kicked and clawed, searching his pockets for his brush. Nightmare snatched it away and set it on top of a wardrobe. “You don’t need that right now.” He squeezed the tattooist’s neck, “Stop struggling, or you’ll make it worse on yourself.” He opened the wardrobe and took something off one of the crudely crafted shelves. Absently, he muttered, “Or do continue struggling. You’re feeding me regardless.” 

Tat growled shakily, “Nightmare, let me go right now.” In the shelf, there were rows and rows of vials filled with a dark purple-black liquid. It shimmered as if the stars had corrupted and trapped in them. 

The lord of darkness let out a bark of laughter. “You think you’re in a position to threaten me? What are you going to do, recite poetry at me?” He shook the tattooist and brought him close. “I don’t think so. You’re going to accept my generous gift to you.” He uncapped a vial. The smell of molded apples permeated the air. Tat gagged against it, struggling harder. Nightmare grew tired of the struggling and wrapped his other tentacles around the tattooist, immobilizing him. Then took a moment to admire the scene. “This seems familiar, wouldn’t you say?” 

“Don’t… don’t Nightmare, please, please don’t do this. I don’t want that, please, no I don’t need-” 

“See, begging might work on Error, but it doesn’t work on me.” Nightmare raised the vial, as if to cheer Tat. “Besides! I made this special for you!”  
Inky tears flowed down the tattooist’s face, darkening the marks already there. He turned his head away. Except Nightmare grabbed his jaw and forced his mouth open. He cooed, “I made this special for you, my friend. I know you’re going to enjoy it. It’ll take all those disgusting happy memories away from you.” 

“N-no-!” Tat choked. He held the liquid in his mouth then spat it into Nightmare’s face. Breathing heavily, he growled, “I said no.” 

Nightmare expressionlessly wiped his face. He looked to the mess on his sleeve, then to the defiant darkness in the skeleton’s sockets. Quick as a whip, Nightmare had another full vial uncapped and against Tat’s mouth. Tat’s eye sockets widened. Nightmare covered his mouth and punched him in the sternum. Tat gasped, choking on the liquid, then swallowing it. He coughed harshly, as if the liquid went into his nonexistent lungs. 

The lord of darkness let the tattooist drop to the floor. “Next time, accept the gift.” 

The pain from the juice overpowered the pain in the tattooist’s chest, though both were still present. He curled in on himself, shuddering and whimpering. _No way was he going to give Nightmare the satisfaction of him screaming._

Nightmare continued to watch Tat struggle against the waves of agony and negativity the dark juice brought forward. He crouched down, intrigued.  
“Really? Nothing more than a pathetic, bitchy whimper? I guess that sums you up pretty well, my friend. Just a lost, soulless little bitch that used to follow my annoying twin brother around.” 

Tat, shaking, grabbed Nightmare by his jacket and brought him face-to-face with himself. _What are you doing?_ His common sense or survival instincts or whatever was yelling, _No Tat stop! TAT STOP WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!_ Why did that voice remind him of…? The dark lord already had his tentacles poised to stab the tattooist through, but the tattooist’s angry words stopped him, “Bitches still bite.” 

After a moment, Nightmare chuckled. “Aren’t we a glutton for punishment tonight?” He murmured. He swiped another vial off the shelf, straddling the tattooist to hold him down. “Very well, bitch, I’ll indulge you tonight.” 

He wrapped a tentacle around the arm gripping his jacket. Squeezed until both bones broke. Tat’s yelp was cut short as Nightmare grabbed his jaw open. He shoved the contents of a new vial into his mouth before covering it again. He wriggled the tentacle around the broken arm, feeling Tat’s body convulse from the pain. Hearing the tattooist unwillingly swallow the juice. “I’m glad you’re fighting all this… it wouldn’t taste as good if you passed out.” 

Tears flowed harder from Tat’s eyes. Already, he was forgetting why he was fighting. What were his goals? What was his plan? Why did he come here? Why didn’t he _just pass out?_

_Pass out, pass out, just pass out, c’mon Tat, why aren’t you going unconscious-?!_

Nightmare uncovered his mouth. Grabbed the broken arm. 

“Hn-!” he whimpered. 

“Why don’t you call for help?” 

Tat’s breathing grew ragged. “N-no…” 

The arm got twisted slightly. Tat failed to keep the cry inside. Tears spilled out his sockets. “I’m sorry, what was that?” Nightmare growled. 

Tat quietly sobbed. “N-nobody will come… there’s n-no point…” 

“Hmph.” Nightmare stood up, grabbing the unbroken arm. He dragged the tattooist through several hallways, going deeper into the castle. Ignored the quiet crying of the pathetic creature behind him. He dropped Tat in a room with only a bed. “You spent all your time prior trying to save everyone as Ink. You killed Ink and became Tat. And look at what’s happened? Nobody’s coming to save you. Nobody gives a shit about you. Not even you.” He loomed closer to the tattooist, voice lowering to a rumble, “But I care… And that’s why I’m helping you.” 

“H-helping me…? By poi-poisoning me…?!” Tat inched away from Nightmare, shaking against the pain. _Pass out! Please pass out...!_

His expression didn’t change. Instead, he stood up, “There are some bandages under the bed. I’ll be back tomorrow.” With that, he backed out the room and slammed the door. Tat heard some locks click and the goopy footsteps fade. 

Only then did the former guardian cry. _Why was he still awake…?_

_Why was he… how was he **feeling** …?_

—— 

Dream was pacing the Doodle Sphere, ashamed of vomiting in Ink’s space, though unsure what else he could do. 

_Nightmare was growing negativity trees? How? Where?!_

The guardian of positivity looked down at his shaky hands. That could explain his weaker stomach and increased anxiety. He looked to each of the AU islands, seeing the cloud of darkness slowly drifting through, engulfing everything. There wasn’t much time. He needed to save the Multiverse. Again. But he had to save Ink! Having Ink back with him will definitely help their odds! 

He knew they were probably in Nightmare’s castle, but he physically couldn’t get into the cursed place. He tried not to collapse into the ground in despair. 

That is, until he heard his name. 

_“Dream? I, uh… I think we need some help?”_

Who is that? Dream frowned. Within a split second, he was face-to-face with the one who called his name. And nearly teleported the hell back out. 

Error raised his hands, “Hang on, it isn’t what it looks like. I… uh… well I didn’t call you here for an ambush.” 

“That’s an excellent way to start a conversation!” Dream growled. His staff flashed to life in his hands, “What do you want Error?” 

“I want Tat to take this stupid flower painting off my head!” The destroyer eyed the staff with great annoyance. 

Dream stared at him. “Are you kidding me? You called me for something like that? What, did you lose your inhibitions and decide to blame Ink?” 

Error scowled, “Wow, I never pictured you the rude type. Besides, didn’t you hear? Ink’s dead. It’s _Tat_ now,” Dream wasn’t sure he’d ever heard so much sarcasm from the destroyer. Actually, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever heard the other talk so much. 

“It’s hard to be nice to someone who has tried to kill you several times before.” Dream ground his teeth together, electing to ignore the Ink-versus-Tat discussion. He didn’t have enough energy to get into it, especially not with Error. “What were you saying about Tat taking off the tattoo? It’s a tattoo, isn’t it? It’s kinda permanent.” 

“He said there wasn’t a reason to remove my tattoo yet. I don’t know what that means, but I think that means he’s the only one who can.” 

Dream looked between the destroyer’s mismatched eyes and the little flower tattoo to the outer corner of one of his eyes. “I think you should keep it. It kinda makes you look friendlier.” _Only Tat can remove these tattoos? Why is he doing them in the first place…?_

Error’s fingers twitched. “Heard you already experienced death by your brother. Wanna experience it from me?” 

Dream pointed the staff at him. “I’m not about to die again, especially to you, friend.” 

“So, you gonna help me or not?” 

_Your solution is to try and coerce me to help you…?_ “Answer me a couple questions and I’ll consider it.” Error grumbled, but crossed his arms and waited. _What’s the point of getting on the guardian’s bad side if he really needed the idiot’s help?_ “Do you know anything about Nightmare and apples?” 

“Yeah, doesn’t everyone? He ate a bad one and became bad. What’s that got to do with my tattoo problem?” 

The guardian of positivity sighed through gritted teeth. “It’s… possible that he’s grown a new tree.” 

Error stared at Dream. “A new…? Hang on, I thought it was just the one guardian tree thing in Dreamtale? How can he…?” 

“I don’t know!” Dream snapped. He rubbed his forehead. “All I know is that it’s now a possibility. Maybe he hacked some code somewhere that allowed him to do this?” 

“Heh. And you want my help to do the same for you?” 

“What? No! I was going to ask you where it was!” Dream paused. “Although… another tree…” 

“No. No way. You’re just going to turn the Multiverse into some sick game of capture the flag! And the two of you would have to stay at your ends of the Multiverse… to… protect the trees… You know, that’d work for me too. Then neither of you could move to stop me without leaving your trees unprotected.” 

Dream scowled, “Why are you saying all this?” _And out loud?_

He laughed, “Because it’s ridiculous! Wouldn’t your people have cultivated an entire orchard of apple trees for you if that were the case? Do you even know if they have seeds?” 

“Seeds..? They’re apples!” 

“You’ve never eaten one though. I bet you never really touched them.”  
Dream became flustered. Could he even tell Error what the golden apples did? He paused. With a nibble, the golden apples improved moods, and a bite could cure many different illnesses. Nobody’s ever consumed a full golden apple. Unlike Nightmare’s purple apples. He looked back to the destroyer. _Could he trust him?_ It made the guardian feel dirty, but _how would getting a golden apple tree growing help Error get Tat to remove the tattoo on his skull? At least, how could he convince the destroyer of that connection?_

_Maybe… the apples could cancel…?_

“Error,” Dream spoke slowly, still fighting with himself over his decision. “I think we can convince Tat remove the tattoo… but would you be willing to help me until then?” 

“… I’m listening.”


	7. I can... grant you a Favor...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bandages and favours, my dudes!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Red = Underfell!Sans  
> Edge = Underfell!Papyrus  
> (I don't know if this was necessary so late but... *tada~*)

The bandages were just where Nightmare said they were. The pain of the juice hadn’t subsided. If anything, it seemed to be increasing. How did his arm not dust away…? That brute had broken both the ulna and radius in one snap. It should’ve vanished by now, right? Tat pulled the sleeve back and shuddered. 

The ink that had been flowing from his eyes and mouth had traveled to his broken bones and were netting them back together. Tat couldn’t feel the pain from the breaks anymore, just the heat as the ink helped the bones reconnect. He couldn’t decide if he was thankful or horrified or some awful mix of the two. He didn’t need the bandages at this point. He looked closer, seeing that the tattoos engraved in his bones were beginning to overflow with excess ink, staining his grey and white bones with the dark liquid. 

A wave of pain ripped through his body. Murky liquid exploded from Tat’s orifices, flowing in thick, uncontrollable waves. Tat tried to scream, or cry, or call for help, _something! Someone! Anyone, please…!_

Of course nobody came. 

Nobody would. 

Nobody cared about the tattooist. They cared about the soulless artist that had protected their AUs. Not this pathetic, stained, waste of magical energy with painful illusions of emotions and a voice reduced to a hoarse gurgle. 

_Nightmare’s right… nobody… cares…!_

Tat curled in on himself, silently screaming against it all. 

——

Error was staring at the guardian of positivity like he was out of his mind. Which kinda hurt Dream, considering who was staring at him like that. “You mean to tell me, you want me to infiltrate your brother’s castle and not only find an apple seed but bring it back to you?” 

Dream held firm. “At least one seed, yes.” 

“I don’t even know if Nightmare has any trees, let alone apple seeds!” Error started pacing. “Why am I even thinking about agreeing to this? The tattoo isn’t even that bad. It’s just…” he stopped, scratched at it, frowned. 

“Just what?” 

“I don’t know… when he slapped it on my head, it seemed like he did it intentionally. I just don’t know why. I don’t sense feelings like you or your brother do, but… I feel like there was something in his expression… something that told me it wasn’t just a tattoo.” 

Dream frowned, “What are you saying Error?” 

“I’m saying I want this fucking thing off me before that crazy artist decides to follow through with whatever he’d intended for it!” 

“So… you’ll get the seed?” 

Error snarled, “I’ll retrieve one single fucking seed for you. Probably be ripped apart by Nightmare beforehand. Who knows? That might be a mercy compared to whatever Tat’s planning.” 

A chill went through Dream’s bones. “How do you know Tat’s planning something?” 

“I asked him what his goal was, and he avoided the question. He’s hiding something. I don’t know if it’s something that happened after Nightmare tortured him, or if it’s something he’s been planning for a long time, but he’s got a plan, and I don’t know if we want to find out what it is.” Error glanced at Dream. “I’ll get you your seed. Then we’ll figure out our next steps.” 

Dream clenched his fists together. “Be careful…” 

Error shook his head and jumped into a glitchy portal. 

Dream stared at the empty space around him. Wherever he looked, except for at the floor, it was a pale, off-white color that made him nauseous. Or maybe it was the thought of his best friend having been tortured by his brother that made him feel sick again. 

Then… he heard a faint cry. He couldn’t pinpoint where it was coming from. The soft voice was begging for help. Dream was on his feet, pacing and looking around. _It isn’t this AU._ He teleported through several AUs until he was in the Doodle Sphere at the edge of darkness, where Nightmare’s reign was steadily growing. 

The sobs had faded, but sounded strongest on the other side of the darkness. Dream gripped the staff in both hands. He had to believe that everything will work out. He had to keep hope alive in his soul. Keep faith in the destroyer to get a seed. _Who was crying for help? How could he even get there?_

Not like it mattered now. The sobs were gone. 

Guilt slithered in the guardian’s ribcage. He hoped the silence was because of a merciful act instead of… he couldn’t bring himself to think further than that. 

He glanced to the side where the first Underfell resided. Surprisingly not taken over. Dream blinked. On a closer look, the darkness seemed to be going around the Underfell island, swallowing up other islands around it. Of almost any of the AUs, Dream figured Nightmare would’ve overtaken Underfell in an instant, if not first. Intrigued, the guardian decided to pay a visit. 

He arrived near one of the resident Sans’ posts and was not surprised to find him dozing off in his seat. Most Sanses were the same. It was almost a comfort for the guardian, who walked right up frowning slightly. “Red. Red, wake up.” 

Nothing. That is until he grumbled, “Dunno who ya are, but ya got about 3 seconds before I Blast ya to hell. Gaster Blaster style.”

“How about you open your eyes, Red?” 

Irritation twitched across his expression. He cracked an eyesocket. Opening them more as he leaned forward. “Holy shit… Dream? Is that really you?” he started laughing. “Wow, I must really be asleep, huh? Whatcha doing here? Where’s Ink?” 

“Ink’s being possessed by something. I need you and your brother’s help.” 

“Possessed? … Fresh?” 

“No, Fresh isn’t interested since Ink doesn’t have a soul. Has a skeleton come here claiming to be called Tat?” 

“Tat? What a dumb name. No, never heard of ‘em.” 

Dream was torn between disappointment and laughter. But a third emotion, worry, won. If Error was right, and Tat was jumping through a bunch of AUs putting tattoos on everyone, what was the pattern? What was the goal? _What was the point? Do you even have time to figure this out…?_

“Dream? Ya good there bud?” 

He blinked. “Right… yeah I’m alright. I’m waiting on someone to get something for me, but I was curious about you and your brother.” 

“Boss ‘n me? How come?” 

_How to explain this…_ “Well, Nightmare’s been systematically taking over a bunch of AUs, and yours is one of the few ones left untouched.” 

Red blinked. “Huh, imagine that. Wonder why?” 

“I wonder too. So I was wondering if I could talk to you and Edge while it’s just me.” 

The skeleton shrugged, gruffly muttering, “Sure. Ya wanna take the long way or my shortcut?” 

Dream was looking around. “Let’s… shortcut. I don’t want to think too much right now.” 

Red frowned. “Not sure if we’ll be able ta help ya, but whatever’s bothering you probably threatens all us, doesn’t it?” He put a hand on Dream’s shoulder, and they appeared in Red’s house. Just as his brother slammed the door open. 

Underfell’s Papyrus looked momentarily surprised to see his brother awake AND with a friend in the living room. Until he remembered that his brother was supposed to be on guard duty again. Dream stepped in front of Red, not interested in hearing them yelling and cursing at each other today. “Capitan, I have a request of you.” 

Edge closed his mouth. _Heh, flattery gets you almost everywhere,_ Dream thought to himself. Underfell’s Papyrus crossed his arms, eyelights darting angrily between his lazy brother and the guardian. “I SUPPOSE I can hear you out first.” 

“I have a frie- er, an acquaintance, that’s searching for something for me. I was wondering if it would be possible to hide it here until I can find a better place to put it?” Dream straightened his spine and stared the Papyrus in the eyes. _Man, did he prefer Honey over Edge… but Nightmare would expect stolen property of his to be in Under **swap** , not Under **fell**..._

“And why would we be interested in hiding something we know nothing about?” 

“Because if you knew about it, it would put you in great danger.” 

“Let me rephrase my question, why would we willingly put our lives on the line for you?” 

Dream winced. Edge had a point, even though it hurt. Dream hadn’t ever explicitly done anything to help the Fell brothers, or their world. Everything he did was behind-the-scenes with Ink. Easily stuff that other strange skeletons could take credit for. He looked down at his hands, considering something. Edge started tapping his boot. “Well?” 

“I can… I…” Dream balled his fists up and looked Edge in his eye, half wishing he had a step-stool or something. “I can… grant you a Favor...” 

Edge’s eyelights narrowed. “A favor. As if I would trust the word of a supposed guardian who hasn’t done anything for us? Why don’t I just demand some physical labor or something else from you?” 

Red interrupted, “Hold on boss. I’ve heard some rumors at Grillby’s about Dream’s Favor.” 

The brothers exchanged glances. Dream, feeling uncertain, stared at them. Red continued slowly, “Supposedly, the favor is something very powerful that you can use at any time.” He looked to the guardian in question, “Right?” 

Dream hesitated to elaborate. He slowly nodded his head, “That’s the gist of it…You can use it for almost anything you want. Think of it like… a wish?” 

Edge’s expression hardened. “That doesn’t stop me from declining your offer.” 

Dream bowed his head slightly. “I understand. I haven’t earned your respect or trust, and for me to ask something this big of you is unfair-” 

“Don’t interrupt me,” Edge growled. “It’s true, you don’t have my trust or respect, at all. However, I’m sure you’ve had your reasons for staying away from Underfell. I would ask why, but I don’t care.” The Papyrus stalked slowly closer to the guardian, fists on his hips. “I’ll take your Favor. Where do you want the thing to be kept?” 

Dreams expression brightened. He shoved his mounting anxiety aside and smiled at the brothers. Maybe… there was a chance after all…?


	8. Of course. It complements your eyes.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gifts are taken and gifts are given.  
> *EXTRA WARNING: self-harm & depression

He didn’t stand a chance. 

Error clutched the wretched thing in his fist, having wrapped it in a torn piece of scarf beforehand. He was hiding from… he didn’t even know yet. He just felt danger and decided not to stick around. He couldn’t sense Nightmare in his own castle, but who knew how long that would last? Error snarled, shoving the cloth bundle into his pocket. He raced back to a thinner portion of the barrier, where he’d first opened his portal. Except someone was standing there. 

“Oh fuck,” Error huffed, straightening. “Fancy this. I was looking for ya.” 

There was a rapidly spreading puddle of some strong smelling chemicals around the other creature’s feet. His bones were stained oddly dark colors, though from a distance, everything looked dark to Error. The only thing that tipped Error off to the figure being Tat was the lack of tentacles off the other skeleton’s back. And how familiar the chemicals smelled to the ex-artist’s paints and inks. 

“…” Tat stepped forward. Error had to stop himself from stepping backwards. _I don’t fear this freak. He should fear me…!_

But it wasn’t long before he was distracted. The destroyer had seen the artist with less clothes than usual. Usually when the destroyer just barely missed, but got enough to ruin his clothes. This resulted in Ink fighting almost naked several times, which always caused Error to leave. 

He just…alright listen, nobody should be humiliated like that! He left purely out of embarrassment for the other. That’s it! Error was not a prude! And he _definitely_ was not feeling anything towards the asshole. Besides! He’d seen plenty of other bodies before! W-well… maybe not like Ink’s- a-and not like— 

He shook his head, remembering the engraved tattoos on the artist’s bones… 

And seeing those same engraved bones bleeding. 

“Nobody came…” Tat’s voice… it was like the void. No emotion albeit, maybe a little dazed? 

Error felt… something crawl up his spine. Was that… anticipation? Dread…? He stared at the tattooist as the other slowly approached. The chemical smell continued to spread at his feet. “What?” 

Tat walked closer. There were bandages wrapped tightly around the ulna and radius of one of his arms, already stained dark colors. “Nobody…” He stopped. His other hand raised as if to shake Error’s. “Are you Nobody?” 

But Error couldn’t stop staring at Tat. There were claw marks all over the other skeleton. What the destroyer had previously mistaken for the tattooist’s marks bleeding were actually self-inflicted injuries over the tattoos. As if the tattooist was trying to peel his skeleton apart. If Error didn’t know any better, it would’ve looked like Tat was trying to escape his own body. 

Tat continued to stare at Error. “He said Nobody would come. But you did. Are you Nobody? Are you here to help me?” 

Error’s soul felt… wrong. It hurt, but nobody had a grip on it. The blue from his eyes started leaking, and strings seemed to spiderweb down his clothes. Tat’s gaze never left Error’s. “I’m… yeah, I’m here to help you, buddy… I just… I have to do something first, alright…?” 

“You’re lying.” Tat licked at his teeth, brows pursing together somewhat. “I don’t… like that… Why are you lying?” 

The destroyer paled slightly. “I can’t tell you the truth.” 

Tat fidgeted. He licked at his teeth again, frowning more. “That’s truth… But you’re going to hide something from me…? Why?” 

“Where is Nightmare?” 

“I don’t know. He left my window open.” 

“Did you escape?” 

“Escape…? I suppose I did. I have plans… I can’t remember them but I…” Tat frowned more, glancing off to the side. “Yes… your flower tattoo seems really familiar… why did I…?” 

Error slowly took a step forward. He glanced at a weaker portion of the Alternate Universe, several steps behind the tattooist. He could easily leave before Nightmare got them. He could get both of them out… But _seriously?_ He groaned internally. He was almost done with his portion of his agreement with the daydreaming asshole. Why did he have to get stopped by…? _Urg, what an absolute pain in my pelvis._

“Ah. I remember.” Tat looked to Error. “I have plenty for my plan. You don’t need yours, but it does look nice on you.” 

The destroyer blinked. “I… D-does it?” 

“Of course. It compliments your eyes. And your blush. But real flowers would do you better justice.” Tat reached out, and the tattoo peeled off Error’s skull, floating into the tattooist’s palm. “Yeah… real flowers…” 

Error stared at the tattoo, then its creator. The seed in his pocket seemed to weigh heavier. He… he could just leave it… Dream didn’t need to know. Nobody needed to know. He could… he could just drop the seed and vanish into his side of the Anti-Void, put up a bunch of barriers, then watch whatever this is go on. He didn’t have to get involved more than he already was. He didn’t have to risk death. Besides, what good did choosing sides ever do to anyone? C’mon, he was being realistic here! He could survive this whole thing and start destroying worlds again! Especially if Ink is truly gone! 

His eyes drifted down to the bandages around the tattooist’s arm. He was ambidextrous, but being down an arm for who-knows-how-long probably hurt him more than the damn thing being broken. Well, it’d probably hurt if he had a soul… It seemed like a fresh break too, since it was still leaking. Error knew Ink would’ve downed half his blue vial, and have been sobbing over his arm. Until Dream snapped him out of it and got him to a healer, or healed it himself. The destroyer reached forward somewhat, aware of the irony of someone like him thinking about healing his enemy. Except the tattooist didn’t seem to be paying attention to the wound. Or the destroyer. He was walking away. 

Error yelled out to him, “In- Tat! Why?” 

Tat paused and glanced back. His expression contorted to something scary. “I’ll spare Nobody. But everyone else? No mercy.” 

The destroyer paled. He wouldn’t ever admit it to anyone. Ever. The minute Tat turned his back, Error ran. 

He burst through the portal that landed him near Dream. Near actually meaning on, since the guardian was pacing in a dirty living room. The two yelped as they fell onto the floor by the couch. The portal closed swiftly. 

Error’s soul was beating rapidly. He couldn’t still his hands long enough to retrieve the bundle from his pocket, but he still fumbled for it. 

Dream grumbled from under him. “Grrroff!!!” Dream shoved Error off him and scrambled backwards. “What happened?!” Seeing the destroyer so freaked out made Dream nervous. “Error? What-?” 

“Don’t touch me,” he hissed. 

“Your tattoo’s gone. How did…?” 

“Tat needs to be stopped. Now. If you think this stupid thing is going to help, then you better get on it. He’s planning something. He’s in motion of it.” Error shuddered. “I might be sick…” 

“Puke in the trash, or Boss’ll be mad atcha,” Red was sitting on the bottom step of the stairs, skull resting on a fist as he’d watched the whole thing. 

Dream and Error looked to the Underfell Sans. Error muttered something under his breath and calmed down enough to give Dream the bundle. 

Still shivering slightly. 

Red witnessed the exchange, and merely raised a brow bone. “This is what you were waiting for, Dream? The destroyer to crash into my house and give you a handkerchief?” 

The guardian tightened his phalanges around the covered parcel. “Basically…” He waved to Error as the destroyer ripped a hole into his Anti-Void. Before closing the portal, Error narrowed his eyes at the guardian. He pulled some string from his eyes and swiftly braided it, then wrapped it around the smaller skeleton’s wrist. “You need anything, break one of the strings on here. I don’t think you’re gonna be able to handle him on your own.” And he was gone. 

Red leaned back against the stairs. “So… you were waiting on a handkerchief and a friendship bracelet?” 

Dream stared at the bracelet. This… Ink kept something like this… Dream couldn’t remember where, but he definitely remembered the handiwork. He’d just never known it was the destroyer’s. He looked to Red. “The handkerchief holds something really important that I think will help us… the bracelet is a surprise… Do you happen to have a basement here?” 

Red’s grin stretched nearly into a sneer. “We’ve got something even better.”


	9. He would hate you so much

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tat learns something new and Error makes a bet.

Tat had recognized Error through the flower tattoo by one of his eyes, though he couldn’t quite remember his name other than as “Nobody”. The only one to be spared. He stared down at the tattoo as it lay in the palm of his hand. He should be feeling something… right? Anger? Indignation? Fear? Anxiety? Something? _Anything?_

Nope. Especially when there wasn’t anyone else around. He was still soulless after all. 

He thought back to each of the tattoos he’d given over… well he wasn’t sure. The memories of the humans and monsters were fuzzy in the tattooist’s mind. He just knew that it was a LOT of tattoos. 

He closed his eyes. It was easy to sense where every single tattoo he’d given was. Yes… he had more than enough… but not yet. The timing wasn’t right. He hadn’t seen Nightmare in… how long has it been? He wanted to give a tattoo to King Goop before he set his half-remembered plans in motion. Only part of him wondered if the tattoo would actually stick or not. 

He looked down at the mess that was his clothes. What was still there was completely ruined by the inky, goopy blood. Clothes shopping, huh? He sank into the puddle at his feet, arriving in a crowded open market. 

Nobody seemed to notice how messy Tat and his clothes were. Until he walked into a clothing department. 

“Oh dear! Sweetheart, you need some new clothes!” 

Tat tried to remember how awkward and uncomfortable people acted. He lowered his head and rubbed at one of his arms. “Y-yes ma’am… could you please…?” 

“Of course I can help you sweetheart! Come, follow me!” He did, keeping his empty sockets trained to the heels of the monster he followed. 

It took nearly an hour for them to agree on an outfit for him. He’d wanted several layers of dark colors, but she disagreed, stating that it would get too hot with too many layers. He offered her a tattoo for her troubles, but she gently declined, stating she’d cover the clothes for ‘such a nice skeleton monster’. A warmth visibly filled her face. 

_Oh…?_

_Well… uh… if the lady insists…?_

Tat merely smiled gratefully at her nodding his head slightly to her. 

As he was leaving the store, he sensed him. 

**Nightmare.**

The tug in his bones reminded the tattooist of the liquid arts he traveled through, but this time, he could sense the being trying to summon him. He was close… 

Tat turned his head to the catwalk several stories above him, seeing the shadow watching him. They met eyes and the tugging stopped. A grin split the shadow’s face and he waved two of his tentacles in greeting. A dark voice echoed in the tattooist’s mind, _“Fancy you in a store, Tat. What are we shopping for?”_

He knew the lord of darkness was just taunting him. Tat’s clothes had been absolutely ruined with the blood and the ink and the goop. The only logical thing the tattooist could do was to wear darker clothes. So, he’d received a thin maroon turtleneck, dark purple-black jeans, and black shoes and socks. Over one arm draped a dark grey zip-up jacket with a black denim vest built onto it. Tat shrugged it on and pointedly flipped up the hoodie. 

Nightmare softly chuckled in his mind. _“You can avoid looking at me all you want, but I’m the only one who cares for you, Tat. What are you doing here? Surrounding yourself with strangers in an attempt to stop feeling lonely? From experience… it doesn’t work.”_

Tat ignored him, keeping his head down as he shuffled through the crowd. 

_“Hmm… that’s right. You’re incapable of feelings. It’s like you’re an empty container full of unwanted food. You’re just going to get thrown out in the end.”_

Tat felt something building in his bones. He ignored it. 

_“Even Dream would hate you-”_

The pressure got worse. Tat couldn’t focus on his walking. 

_“He would hate you so much-”_

No… no he wouldn’t. _Couldn’t!_ Dream’s dead. Dream doesn’t hate people. Dream wouldn’t hate him. He wouldn’t- 

_“He’d hate you enough to lock you away forever-”_

Dream c-couldn’t… Tat stumbled into a monster that snapped at him to watch it. But all Tat could see was Dream turning his back. 

_“Yeah, he’d probably kill you on the spot if he saw you like this.”_

His voice was so nonchalant.

The vision of Dream formed his bow from his staff-

Pointed it at Tat-

He’d **hate-**

“STOP!” dark blue-grey clouds billowed from Tat’s body, flowing easily through the newly purchased threads. 

Everyone who breathed in the smog or were touched by it instantly started freaking out. Several of them collapsed and started crying. Others rocked on their heels, gripping their arms closer together. Others still dropped to their knees and gripped their heads. Those who were unaffected screamed and quickly backed away. A panic started when they realized what the smoke was doing. 

Soon, it was just Tat at the epicenter of the emotional disaster. Nightmare had frozen in his perch above the scene. Tat stared around himself. “N-no…” _Dream would probably kill you on the spot._ “No…d-don’t…” 

The vision of Dream faded. 

The hate in his eyes didn’t…

M-maybe— 

_“Look at what you’ve done,”_ Nightmare purred in his mind. _“This is incredible…”_

Tat shoved the lord out his mind. Worked on clearing his thoughts. The pressure that had built was released with the smog…

He just needed to control that pressure. 

The moment Tat felt the stability of nothingness, the smoke dissipated. Everyone, already weak from the extreme emotional switch, sagged to the floor and looked around with fear and confusion. 

“It’s him!!” someone pointed a shaky claw at him. “He’s hurt everyone here!” 

Tat tugged his hoodie down over his face further. He sliced a phalange and let the tainted blood drip on the floor before sinking into it and vanishing from sight. Nightmare smiled, still soaking in the negativity of the growing riot below, until police and doctors came rushing in. 

But Nightmare wasn’t the only one watching the scene. After visiting Dream, Error had decided to trail after Tat and watch his movements. He was protected from Tat’s smoke by the glass wall of the little tea shop he was in. When everyone began panicking, Error had frozen in place though his tea cup shattered against the floor. He still sat there, trying to process what he’d just seen. 

Even Nightmare could barely devastate so many people at once. 

And that was just an accident. 

It didn’t look like Tat was fully aware of what happened. 

He needs to be stopped… 

... 

_Dream needed to know… ___

___**NOW!** _ _ _

__——_ _

__Dream stared at the…uhm… “guest house”. Red stood next to him, arms crossed. His pride was clear in the quirk of his smirk. Dream frowned at him, “This isn’t a guest house. This is a detainment facility capable of torture.”_ _

__“Ya think? We use it for our guests who’re… not so pleasant.”_ _

__“And how am I supposed to grow a tree in a place that doesn’t have windows?”_ _

__“Hey,” Red frowned at the guardian, “YOU asked OUR help. ‘Sides, we’ve got some UV lights. Ain’t the best, but it’ll be like the surface sun shinin’ on yer lil plant there. And we’ve got a buncha fertilizer and water. Yer plant’ll be happy here. Especially if yer hiding it from yer messy bro.”_ _

__“How come your world wasn’t taken over already?”_ _

__Red laughed. “Boss ain’t Captain of the Royal Guard fer no reason. He beat the shit outta Nightmare. Well, with Ink’s help. ‘M surprised that artist ain’t with ya... if I’m bein’ honest…” he took a swig of his mustard._ _

__Dream resisted shuddering. Instead he looked around, fighting the feelings inside him. “Yeah… Ink’s not doing so well right now… I wanna use this to try to help him…”_ _

__“Oh…” Red scratched his skull. “In that case, I’m surprised Nightmare hasn’t come through here yet, either. Prolly a matter a time, then, if he knows Ink’s out the game for the moment.”_ _

__Dream thought about that for a second. It was interesting… the only reason why Underswap wasn’t taken over was because Dream fought Error hard to keep the world safe. And now he’s hearing that Ink fought Nightmare for Underfell? The parallels were… terrifying. Almost funny._ _

__He looked down at the seed in his hands. First things first… “Thanks Red… I’ll… I’ll start getting to work.”_ _

__Which is exactly what the little guardian did. Red watched the smaller skeleton layered a bigger pair of gloves over his already gloved hands and get to work._ _

__——_ _

__It took way too long for the destroyer to find the guardian. He had been torn between watching Tat, keeping an eye on Nightmare, and looking for Dream. And honestly, Dream was _not_ where the destroyer had expected at all. _ _

__And it wasn’t until they were face-to-face that Error remembered that Dream had his strings braided around one wrist._ _

__He could’ve _tracked_ the dumbass… _ _

__But that’s besides the point!_ _

__Dream stared up at Error as the later nearly fell through a portal. “Error…?”_ _

__It took him only a few seconds before he realized he was in Underfell. “You’re willingly in a Fell AU? I’m a little surprised at you, Dream.”_ _

__The guardian shrugged. Error hastily stood, straightening his clothes. He hoped his breathing wasn’t too-_ _

__He finally noticed the dark circles under Dream’s eyes and the way his arms shook slightly. The guardian slowly sat down at a table and motioned to Error to sit across from him._ _

__Error frowned and slowly obliged. They stared at each other until the destroyer’s eyes wandered. He blinked several times, unsure what he was seeing. “Dream you-”_ _

__“Yeah. I… maybe I’m going overboard with this but-”_ _

__“You’ve poured your magic into these trees until they’ve produced fruit…?”_ _

__Dream half-shrugged, slumping back in his chair to stare at his work upside-down. “I don’t know how long they’re supposed to take to give fruit, so I just… Honestly, I wasn’t expecting to grow it so fast… even with my help.” He raised his head and met Error’s eyes. “Purifying it was honestly the hardest part. And there’s only one there.”_ _

__The apple tree looked like one oddly shaped bush riddled with nearly ripe golden apples. It easily took up a quarter of the room in the Fell brothers’ shed. There was plenty of space around it for the small guardian to prune and heal if necessary. Otherwise, the tree was a beautiful masterpiece._ _

__Error frowned at the guardian. “It looks like the hardest part is keeping this up. When was the last time you slept?”_ _

__“Aww, be careful, I might think you actually care about me…” Dream chuckled dryly. He sighed, “I’ve been funneling every single positive thought and emotion from all over the Multiverse through me into this tree. I… I lost track of how long it’s been.”_ _

__“You’re vulnerable.”_ _

__“The Fell bros are protecting us.”_ _

__“They don’t know I’m here with you.”_ _

__Dream smiled sadly. “I knew you were looking for me. I just didn’t know how your strings worked.” He motioned to the friendship bracelet. Error grumbled to himself and glanced away. Dream continued, “I don’t think you’re really going to ruin this plan. Even though you don’t have the tattoo, you’re suspicious about Tat. You want to help him. At least as much as I do, I think…” Dream’s gaze shifted to the tree again. “What happened?”_ _

__Error shuddered, thinking back. “It… it looked like Tat got upset about something. One second, he was hunched up and the next, there was a buncha blue smog, and everyone started freaking out and crying and panicking. It was so freaky.”_ _

__The guardian blinked slowly. “Upset…? Did he have any paints with him?”_ _

__“No, and that’s what’s… got me on edge, I guess.”_ _

__“No paints…? Error, he doesn’t have a soul. He can’t feel emotions.”_ _

__Error scowled. “I KNOW, Dream! That’s why I’m here telling you this shit instead of tracking the little freak down and putting him out his misery! Even _Nightmare_ seemed spooked by the smoke.” _ _

__“Even Nightmare…?” Dream’s eyes widened. “Wait, Nightmare was there?! When did this happen?”_ _

__“I don’t know!! I crashed a few times since then. You know I don’t process time well.”_ _

__Dream stood up quickly and walked over to the tree. “I think we’re running out of time, Error.”_ _

__“What do you mean?”_ _

__“I mean I think growing this tree was on borrowed time, and we’re about to get smacked in the face with something we’re not prepared for.” Dream’s hands hovered over several apples. His brow furrowed together. He held one that was almost ripe. Closing his eyes, he channeled whatever magic he’d perfected into the fruit. The apple shimmered with light, nearly making a twinkling noise. Dream carefully picked it off the tree and walked back to Error. “You need to eat this.”_ _

__“What? No!”_ _

__“We DON’T have _time_ Error! You still don’t know what the hell he’s planning with his tattoos! And if my brother is scared of him, then we ALL should be!” _ _

__“NO! I’m not-! My job ended when I gave you that stupid seed! Why don’t you eat it?!”_ _

__Dream’s expression shifted then. It did something Error had never seen on that guardian’s face before._ _

__It darkened._ _

__Became almost scary._ _

__“If your job ended at that moment, then what the fuck are you doing here bothering me for?”_ _

___Brrr…_ _ _

__“If I eat this apple, I become a more corrupted version of myself, as my brother did. I have no idea how that’ll affect us, and I don’t think we can afford to find out.”_ _

__Error stared at the usually positive guardian before gingerly taking the apple in his hand. “…”_ _

__“Are you scared, Error?” His voice had softened._ _

__“’Course I am. I’m about to eat this magic apple that’s probably going to kill me!”_ _

__“It-” Dream sighed. “I could force this down your throat, but the minute I do, it’ll turn black, and that kinda defeats the purpose. You eating the golden apple? It has to be given from me to you, and it’s gotta be your choice to consume it. That’s what makes my apples so much more potent.” He rolled the apple in his hands, thinking. “You can choose to not eat this apple, but I don’t think we’ll find too many Multiverse travelers that are as invested in saving Ink as you and I are…Are you scared of more pain? Or is it the unknown?”_ _

__Error scowled at the guardian again. “Read my mind why don’t you…” Dream smiled slightly and shrugged. Error looked down at the apple again. He slowly took it from the guardian’s hands and stared down at it. “Guess there’s only one way to stop being afraid of the unknown, huh…?” He smiled slowly. "Betcha this backfires on ya, and you'll have to eat one anyways."_ _

__He took the bite._ _


	10. My... name is...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New look, new name! And Tat is torn.

Error had no idea what he expected, but the initial flow of peace was definitely not one of them. He’d let the juice of his first bite sit on his tongues before he chewed and swallowed it. 

He took a second bite and the pain he’d grown used to over his entire life faded. 

A third bite, and the voices that plagued him vanished one by one. 

He started chomping down on the rest of the apple. The rush of positivity and healing nearly overwhelmed him. It sent his bones into a frenzy of pleasant tingles, and his soul flashed warmly. It almost felt like he was being shocked after drinking several shots of coffee. He couldn’t tell if he moaned or not at the feelings through his body. It could’ve been the taste of the apple too. Nothing ever tasted so good to the ex-glitch. He worried briefly about anything ever tasting again, but the worry was swept away as he finished the apple. 

Error’s sockets leaked tears of euphoria, tinged a gold color instead of the blues of his strings. As Dream watched, he was fascinated to see the glitches covering the destroyer left. He looked physically whole. Error shuddered. His eyelights vanished and he pitched forward. 

Dream caught him. No crashes. No noises, but the soft whistle of air blowing past his nasal cavity. 

Was that…? Oh… 

He fell asleep. 

Dream sighed, hauling the deadweight over to a chair. He tucked the destroyer in and sat next to him, staring at the tree. _Who knows if this would make it better or worse…?_

——

Tat had isolated himself somewhere he’d never been. There were stars everywhere above him. He’d surrounded himself with silence, but he could imagine the worlds he’d visited. Somewhere, a village was probably celebrating a victory, he thought. There would be music echoing wherever it was. Maybe somewhere else, there would be a village mourning a loss. Tat figured he was far enough away from everyone that it shouldn’t be a big problem to… well, to figure out what the hell happened back at the other place. 

He looked down at his hands. As if those would give him the answers? 

Well, there was that pressure… 

He suddenly glanced around. Was it because Nightmare was there? Or was Nightmare actually scared of him now? He hadn’t seen the lord of darkness since the… shopping situation. He wasn’t about to go searching for him either. 

But was that pressure due to Nightmare…? 

No… those were… weren’t those feelings? Emotions? Is this how he’s going to be feeling emotions now? But he still doesn’t have a soul…? 

Tat gripped his skull and growled. The pressure came back with the frustration of his predicament. He focused on it. More thoughts flew through his head. 

_He didn’t have enough power._

_He didn’t have a soul._

_He can’t control this power._

_He’s just the puppet on some strings._

_He’s worthless._

_**Nobody cares about him.** _

_**Nobody-** _

With a yell, smoke exploded from his body again. It was a gross brown color. He watched it flood the areas around himself and blinked several times. The pressure was… still there… but it existed outside his body now…? Well, alright… Could he…? 

He opened his palm to the smoke and focused on it. The pressure squirmed, but slowly flowed back to his hand. He manipulated it until it was a tight ball of frustration in his hand. He couldn’t personally feel the frustration anymore, but he could sense it in the ball. 

Huh. Weird. 

Seriously, weird. 

He dispersed the pressure and watched it fade from view. The emotions weren’t there anymore either. 

He stared up at the stars. 

_This… is it a gift or a curse…?_

Surely Nightmare would see it as a gift, but Tat wasn’t so sure. 

——

When the destroyer next woke up, he… well, for once he felt as peace. So much so that he wondered if he’d died. 

Dream was asleep next to him, energy having been spent for so long that he couldn’t keep his sockets open. His head was on Error’s shoulder. The later couldn’t feel the painful tingles anymore, but the sensation of touch was still uncomfortable for him at best. He gingerly squirmed away enough to allow Dream to lean against the wall instead before looking around. 

There was a skeleton there. 

Error jumped to his feet and reached for his strings- 

The other skeleton scowled at him. “Ya wake up all ready ta fight doesn’t inspire trust in me, buddy. You’re the one in _my_ house.” 

Error blinked several times. “You must be the Sans of Underfell then.” 

“Yeah. Go by Red when you Multiverse guys are here. Gets confusing otherwise- Who are you? How’d you sneak by us?” 

Error thought about it. Surely they would know “Error the destroyer” or whatever title they gave him? Maybe… 

His words were slow. “My… name is… Edit.” 

Red chuckled. He crossed his arms, fixing him with a one-light stare. “Ya sure about that?” 

“…” Error wasn’t feeling… quite right on the inside… What… was this? He’d have to ask Dream when the guardian woke up. “Yeah. I’m sure. It’s Edit.” 

“Huh.” Red didn’t say anything for almost a full minute. The two just stared at each other. Edit couldn’t figure out what Red was thinking. “Just that you look like one of those Nightmare followers.” 

_A FOLLOWER?!_ Edit took a breath. “No. Just an unfortunate appearance thing I think…” Why was he curious? Edit narrowed his sockets at Red. “You…? Hm…” 

“Me what? What’s on your mind Edit?” 

“I’m just… there’s a lot of feelings uhm… I don’t know in me or around me? It’s just…” he was moving a lot. He glanced down and realized his body was moving. This is what people do when they’re scared or excited right? Shiver? Or something? 

Dream seemed to sense it because he was suddenly awake and in front of Edit. “Hey it’s okay! Just breath through it!” 

“We d-don’t need to breath!” 

“Er, right, but still, just-” Dream hesitated with his hands hovering over Edit’s arms. “What are you feeling?” 

“Anxious, curious, confused, scared, nervous, tired-” 

Dream frowned. “No that’s… that’s what Red and I are feeling.” 

“Ya know what I’m feeling?” 

“Edit what are _you_ feeling?” 

“I don’t-!” 

Dream glanced at Red, “Can you leave us for a couple minutes please?” 

Red looked between them before shrugging. Edit’s shaking turned into a shiver every few seconds when the door shut. Dream focused on cloaking his emotions until Edit seemed neutral. “You alright Error?” 

“Do you mind if I go by Edit?” 

“Uh, yeah! Of course! It’s your name isn’t it?” Dream smiled encouragingly at him. “Any particular reason why?” 

Edit rubbed his sternum, thinking. “I think I feel guilt… and I think I need to fix that. To…” he cringed, “Edit… it…” 

Dream chuckled. “Why our names are usually puns will never cease to crack me up…” 

The former destroyer smiled in response. “Dream… why do I…?” 

“Feel all these emotions? I think the apple made you more sensitive to them. In a similar way that Nightmare is able to continuously form his tentacles from his negativity, I think you might be able to form something from whatever extra you’re feeling, if you so desired.” 

Dream stood up and started pacing around the tree, tapping his chin. “I think that’s why Tat was able to make the smoke that affected all these other people. Because he doesn’t have a soul, he didn’t realize he was channelling emotions, and he couldn’t control when they were all released. But since you have a soul, and you’re used to feeling emotions and maybe you can control them somehow, after you differentiate your feelings from others.”

Edit just stared at him. He felt the nudge of “not mine” with the excitement and interest that came with Dream’s words. It was so subtle that it wasn’t until Dream was talking about differentiation that he realized. 

“Do you still want to destroy all the AUs, Edit?” Dream did his best to wash his emotions off the board. 

Edit’s gaze slowly went blank. He focused on Dream, trying to sense what the other was thinking or feeling. All he could sense was his own emotions. The confusion, the guilt. Some slight fear of what he’s become. Anticipation at facing Tat and Nightmare. Anxiety at feeling all these new emotions. But when it came to the AUs? 

Curiosity. 

Dream sensed that too and blinked. Edit felt the spark of surprise the other tried to hide. Edit smiled slightly. “Guess there’s no more secrets between us…” 

“There’s never been secrets. You can lie about your emotions, but my brother and I have always known what other people felt.” Dream frowned. “I think you and Tat are the same now…” 

“What would happen if I ate more of the golden apples?” 

Dream judged Edit’s emotions. Curiosity. Still. Maybe a hint of desire. “I think you should try to get acquainted with this one first. I’ll help you through your learning phase, but I don’t think-” 

“What better way to learn than to just jump into it? I’m going to go find Tat!” 

“-you should do that…” Dream sighed as he watched Edit excitedly rip open a portal and jump through. He stared at how shiny and pretty the portal looked. Then it closed.


	11. How'd it get this bad?!

Tat felt the portal open near him and instantly was on his feet. There was quite a bit going on from the other side of the portal, and then a strange looking skeleton walked through. _Nobody!_ Tat stood up, a slight smile on his face. But he faltered. _Nobody… looks different…_

His Nobody had blue tears and glitches and anger and pain. This… creature… he looked like Nobody, but his tears were gold. He didn’t have glitches. He was excited to see someone. This… this wasn’t Tat’s Nobody. How _dare…?!_

The pressure came quick, but Tat focused it onto the palm of his hand. The smoke was a rapidly shifting red color. Vibrant in it’s anger. 

The Nobody imposter froze and raised his hands. “Woah! Tat! It’s me!” 

His voice wasn’t hitching up and down. It was deeper but more relaxed. It didn’t shudder or glitch- No! _This isn’t him! This isn’t Tat’s Nobody!_

Tat growled, “Who’s me? I don’t know you.” 

“It’s Ed- uh… well Error. I was Error but I-” Psychedelic battle magic was starting to light up in Tat’s blank gaze. Edit cringed, keeping his palms visible, “Wait! Listen, Tat… I used to be Error, but I’m Edit now. Just like you used to be Ink but you’re Tat now.” 

“Y-you killed Error…?! My Nobody?!” 

Edit blinked several times. “W-wait, no not like-!” 

Tat let the ball drop. Literally. It rolled off the tip of his fingers and popped when it hit the ground. With a twist of his wrist, the smoke shifted to a snake and raced for Edit. Edit looked Tat right in the sockets and let the snake hit him. 

Everything went dark. 

Edit blinked several times. No… it wasn’t dark, but there was a dark-robed creature in front of him. 

It looked like Reaper. The figure floating just in front of Edit, grinning widely at Tat. He held a crystal in one hand that absorbed the smoke, and a sword in the other. When the smoke was gone, Zest teleported the crystal away and leaned on the sword. “Tat? Hi. I’m Zest.” 

Tat slowly grinned. “My plan is working perfectly.” He lunged. 

Zest’s face was hidden in the shadows of his hood as he withdrew the sword. 

“No!” Edit yelled. _**“NO!”**_ and jumped between them. 

Several cracking sounds echoed out. 

——

Dream _felt_ it. 

He had screamed out before realizing what he was doing. Red and Edge came racing in, thinking their guest was under attack. In a way, he was, but it was just him and the tree in their torture chamber. 

Dream was collapsed on the floor, gripping his chest and wailing. Edge instantly sealed off the chamber while Red went to him. “Dream? Ay, buddy, ya okay? Lemme see, where does it hurt?” 

The guardian bared his chest, whimpering, “H-here…!” but there were no injuries.  
Red glanced uncertainly at Edge. “Boss, there’s nothing-” 

“E-Edit…” Dream was shaking. “We need-” 

“Guardian, we do not have the power to traverse between worlds,” Edge spoke the harsh words as softly as he could. “You need to open the portal.” 

“No, you need to st… stay here and-” 

“Yeah yeah, boss’n I’ll stay and protect yer tree. Go help whoever needs it,” Red grinned at him. “We’ll use yer Favor if we need any help, alright?” 

Dream nodded. His magic wobbled as he formed the staff in his hand. A portal appeared beneath him, and he fell through. 

 

He managed to land on his feet. Zest glanced over first. He looked… uncomfortable for once. “Dream.” 

“Who…?? _Zest?!_ How long has it-? What are-? OH STARS, EDIT?!” 

Dream was instantly by his side, staring at the gaping hole in his ribs. Golden dust was flowing from his broken bones. Zest murmured, “I… didn’t-” 

“What happened?!” 

“I think Tat was going to steal my soul, but _this fool_ jumped in the way. His soul- Tat-” 

“Dammit…” Dream checked on Edit’s depleting magic levels. He looked to Zest. “Get him to Underfell now. Tell them I sent you. I’m going after Tat.” 

Zest stared at Dream. “You’re going to need back-up for this one, Dream” at the guardian’s glare, he looked down at Edit and sighed, shrugging off his robes. “Fine. Hurry.” 

Dream tried to focus in on Edit’s soul. Tainted with the golden apples, it was fairly easy to find. Just a hop through a portal away… 

It was a dark dimension. Dream wasn’t entirely sure where he was. Maybe it was a Void or something? Tat was only visible with the soft golden glow emanating from the soul in his hands. He was crouched, shoulders hunched around the soul. Stared into it. 

Dream approached him cautiously. “Tat…?” His figure flinched. Slowly looked over. Dream stopped, raising his empty hands. “Tat, hey… uhm… mind handing me that soul…?” 

“…it’s Nobody’s soul… it feels…” he looked down at it. “It feels… it’s warm… I want it.” 

“T-Tat, you-” Dream’s hands twitched. “You stole Edit’s soul…! He needs it back, he-” 

Tat stood. “He needs his soul _back?”_ He turned his empty sockets to Dream. “Where is _my_ soul, guardian?” 

“You… Zest-” 

“But I do.” His voice was getting clearer. He held up the golden soul. “I have _this_ soul. This is _my_ soul now.” He raised his other hand, an intense pressure swirling to life in the palm of his hand. “You’re not going to take _my_ soul away from me again, are you?” 

“Again…? Tat, you don’t- you-” Dream took a step back. _How’d it get this bad?! Why is this such a mess?!_

Tat’s smile tilted. Looking almost… indifferent, “Edit’s with me now. My Nobody and I’ll be together. Please do not get in my way again, guardian. I’ll need you soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zest belongs to me~! We'll get to see more of him later!


	12. Zest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter? Hates me. 
> 
> It did _not_ want to be written. 
> 
> Yet here it is!

“He’ll _need you soon?”_ Zest glanced up at Dream, frowning. “What the hell does that mean?” 

“I don’t know!” Dream cried. “He’s got Edit’s SOUL and I don’t know where they went, and I just…!” 

“Hey, hey hold on.” Zest walked over to the guardian and rested his fiery hands on Dream’s shoulders. “You got this far, haven’t you? Don’t give in to your negativity, okay?” 

Dream stared up at him. “…how did you know your stone was going to work…?” 

“I didn’t. But emotionally charged energy like whatever smoke that skeleton was producing is definitely going to be interesting to look into! How does a soulless being emit such a blast?” Zest pulled out a notebook from his pocket. He opened it, pulling the pencil out to scribble, “Ohh I can’t wait to find out!” 

“Focus, Zest!” 

Zest glanced up. “Oh right… Not here.” He snapped the book shut. 

Red stared at the new guy. He looked like his Grillby, except he had a skeleton beneath the fire, and the fire kept changing colors. “What the hell are you…?” 

“Red! Don’t be rude!” 

Zest chuckled. “Oh it’s fine. I’m an experiment in a different alternate universe. The Gaster, Grillby, and Sans of my world were scientists and they wondered what would happen if they combined their magics and some DT into one being and,” he motioned to himself. “Well, I’m the most successful version.” 

“Gaster? Who’s that?”

The energy in the room shifted to awkwardness. Zest fiddled with the string in his notebook and shrugged, “Uh… never mind that!” 

But Red wasn’t letting the subject drop yet. “…you said most successful…? What about the others?” he asked. 

Zest cleared his throat, “Uh… not the best question to be asking me.” 

“Red,” Dream sighed heavily, “Seriously.” 

The three of them glanced down to Edit, frowning slightly in concern. “I’m surprised he’s lasting this long away from his SOUL,” the fiery skeleton sat down.

Dream looked down at the catatonic Edit with the dried golden blood on his chest. He was surprised too. But maybe it was the apples…? 

Zest glanced up to Dream. “You have an idea, don’t you? You’re suspicious about something.” 

“Thanks.” 

Red glanced between them. “Aight, what the fuck happened?” 

“Tat took Edit’s SOUL, intending to take mine. Dream might have an idea about why Edit’s still alive.” 

Red stared at Zest again, mind reeling. “Uh huh…” he muttered slowly. “Ya know, I’m just… gonna go back in the house. Holler if ya need us.” He glanced between the three of them one last time before shaking his head and shutting the door. 

Dream stared down at Edit, unable to help a hint of frustration from floating in his positivity. Zest frowned at him. “Hey, it wasn’t your fault.” 

“I should’ve just eaten the apple myself.” 

“And fall to the same curse as your brother? It’s good that you didn’t.” 

“And now Edit doesn’t have a SOUL!” Dream snapped. “And we don’t know where Tat went!” 

Zest tilted his head at Edit’s still body. “Do you think it’s possible for two bodies to share a SOUL?” 

Dream stared at him. “I’m sorry?” 

“I asked if you thought it was possible for two bodies to share a SOUL. Humans have a thing about soulmates. Maybe Tat and Edit could be similar?” 

“How…” Dream frowned, “How would that work? Like… split Edit’s SOUL in two? But it has the golden apple! And Tat’s body is poisoned by the purple one!” 

Zest shrugged. “I’m just throwing suggestions out there. And I’m only mentioning it because _I’m_ here. Somehow.” 

_The tattoos…_ Dream still didn’t understand what they were for. Or why Tat had been freely giving them out. But he suspected they were magicked. 

…obviously…

With a swipe of a paint brush, a permanent tattoo is applied without pain? Unrealistic. Of course it’s magic.

_But how did it work…? How’s Tat able to do that? And **why?**_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience! The next chapter update will happen in the first week of August! *finger guns as sinks into pillows* thank youuuu~
> 
> hnnnnn sleep


	13. No.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyyyy so _that's_ what Tat's stuff does?

_How much time has passed?_

_Does it matter?_

_The gold… it was so comforting…_

_It was so warm…_

_So… so nice…_

_He wanted it to warm him from the inside out. His core felt so… so-_

_Empty-_

_Void-_

_Useless._

_He brought it closer to his rib cage._

_Be_ one _with this warmth…_

_Is… is that what he wanted…?_

_A soul?_

…

_Or was it to no longer be- ___

__“Heya Tat.”_ _

___Alone…?_ _ _

__Tat peeled his gaze from the golden SOUL to meet Error’s eyes._ _

___...Error…?_ _ _

__The destroyer smirked and crossed his arms. “Whatcha doing there, buddy?”_ _

__“...It’s warm.”_ _

__“Huh. Yeah, they usually are, aren’t they?” Tat stayed quiet, watching the destroyer take a few steps closer. He lowered himself down until he sat crisscrossed in front of the tattooist. He offered a multi-coloured hand, “Mind if I check it out?”_ _

__Tat held it closer to his ribcage. “You can’t have it.”_ _

__“I just want to look at it.”_ _

__“No.”_ _

__The destroyer tried for a smile, “Don’t you trust me with my own SOUL?”_ _

__Tat slowly squinted his sockets at Error, but still, he refused to give the SOUL over._ _

__“Come on, Tat. You cannot absorb it, right? Give it here,” the smile was slightly strained now._ _

__Growling, the tattooist repeated, _“No.”__ _

__“Huh. You’re even more of a stubborn shit since you ate those apples.” Error lunged forward, and Tat rolled to the side, a ball of angry energy forming in his free hand._ _

__Error stood, grin widening. “You wanna Fight? Fine by me. I’m getting that SOUL, regardless if I have to shatter every single bone in your body to do so.”_ _

__Slowly, Tat grinned back, "No. You aren't."_ _

__\---__

__  


__Wandering through the market was fun, especially if it was a multiversal market with hundreds of AU-hoppers everywhere. Zest _loved_ this place. _ _

__What he wasn’t a fan of?_ _

__The sudden stillness as every single person with a flower tattoo froze and glowed slightly._ _

__But Zest felt… something. Like the knowledge or the experience was drained from those with the tattoos._ _

__His phone was instantly in his hand as he Checked on one of the monsters. “Dream? Yeah. Something’s happening. Something big.”_ _

__The monster’s stats were cycling down to level one. Each monster Zest Checked had the same story._ _

__There was an echo of power, and the lights of the monster market flickered out._ _

__“What was that?” Dream asked on the other end._ _

__Zest glanced around, thankful for once that he was partially made of fire. “I don’t know. But I suspect your friend is somewhat responsible for it. I’m going to check it out.”_ _

__“Be careful, Zest. If someone’s aggravated Tat enough that we can feel the power glitch over several AUs away, assume it’s someone worthy of it, okay? I’ll be there as soon as I can.”_ _

__“What about Edit?”_ _

__“There isn’t much we can do until we get his SOUL back. Maybe you can convince him?”_ _

__“Hmm….” Zest opened a portal and stepped through. “I’ll try, Dream.”_ _

__Hanging up, Zest took a look around the AU he was in now. There was a lot of negativity floating in the air, but a… he squinted._ _

__In the distance, there was a gold speck. No more than a pinprick, with the distance he was from it, but visible amidst the darkness nonetheless. He took a shortcut, landing closer to the gold. Another shortcut, and it was clear the gold was clutched in the skeletal claws of the tattooist._ _

__And the tattooist was fighting Edit? Error?_ _

__Wait…_ _

__Tentacles were attacking him._ _

___Nightmare._ _ _

__Zest ducked behind a boulder and peered out at the fighters._ _

__“You really thought you could hide your true form from me, Nightmare?!” Tat snarled._ _

__Nightmare merely laughed, “Just as you thought I’d let you do whatever you wanted? You’re _mine_ , Tat!” _ _

__“I am _Nobody’s_ , Nightmare. Not yours.” An orb of emotion formed in Ink’s free hand, which he altered into a whip. _ _

___Fascinating_ … Zest patted down his clothes, realizing he left his notebook at home. Scowling slightly with irritation, he continued to watch the fight. _ _

__Watched Tat _driving Nightmare back.__ _

___Successfully._ _ _

__Blinking, he turned his attention to the lord of darkness and saw something he never thought he’d see._ _

___Nightmare was actually fighting for his life._ _ _

__His disguise as Error was dripping, so he decided to shed the disguise entirely and fought back harder. He used his tentacles almost as skewers. Each time they came close to the tattooist, he’d slash the whip with a harsh crack, and the ends of the tendrils would come clean off._ _

__Nightmare backed off, hissing with rage, but unable to get any closer. He vanished into a puddle of goop._ _

__Tat’s breath came quickly and raggedly. He held the SOUL protectively close to his chest and shut his eyes. “You can stop staring, elemental.”_ _

__Zest twitched, stepping from his hiding place. “How’d you know?”_ _

__“You’re a ball of emotion and energy. And fire.” Tat shot his sockets to stare at him. “And I recognized that energy from when Edit protected you.”_ _

__For a moment, Zest was startled. _He knew Edit…?__ _

__Tat frowned at him. “I have a need for you, elemental. I need you to bring me Edit’s body.”_ _

__“What? Why?”_ _

__“It’s either you bring it to me, or I fight my way to wherever it is,” Tat snapped. “Which do you prefer?”_ _

___Considering they had no idea what to expect from this creature, it would probably be better for Zest to bring the body… right…?_ “Are you going to split his SOUL?” _ _

__“Don’t be stupid. He’ll die if I do.”_ _

__The fire flared around his body. He wasn’t _stupid_. He was _curious_. And there was a very big difference. And this? Definitely piqued the scientist’s interest. “Alright.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the patience~!


	14. A Deal Has Been Made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the title is exactly what happens~!

_“Alright,”_ is what he said. As if it were that easy. As if trying to sneak a body away from a Fell residence was that easy. As if he wouldn’t get a single question asked. 

But it was more predictable than bringing Tat to the _Tree of Positivity_ that Dream was trying to grow. If there was more than the one, Zest would’ve considered bringing Tat with him, but… well, he couldn’t really compromise Dream’s hard work. They had no idea the influence Nightmare had over Tat, if he had any. Though Zest suspected Nightmare’s little experiment was getting out of hand, he couldn’t be completely certain. 

Tat was still staring at Zest, waiting. The latter sighed and shortcut away.

Just as Dream opened a portal. 

The tattooist sighed. “Not even a moment to myself?” 

Dream startled at seeing Tat with Edit’s SOUL and not seeing Zest or the threat. “What did you do…?” 

“I defended myself.” 

_Evidently…_ Dream glanced around at the damage. Residual traces of Tat’s odd magic seemed to be mingled with- 

“Against _Nightmare?!”_ Dream whirled to Tat. The guardian’s fingers twitched and his staff formed in his hand. 

The other didn’t seem to care. He still held Edit’s SOUL in his claws and… waited. “If you’re going to attack me, I suggest you attempt now. I wasn’t joking about needing you later, but if you insist on mucking up my plans now, then I can find a replacement for you.” 

“What is your plan, Tat?!” Dream demanded. “Why are you doing any of this?! Why do you think I’ll help you with anything-?” 

“Because I used to be Ink. At least, that’s what you kept insisting. Even though I’ve told you again and again, you believe your precious Ink will come back.” Tat turned his empty gaze to Dream. “Did you know I tried?” 

“What…?” 

“I tried to bring Ink back. I found where he collected his paints from. I drank them. _All_ of them. I tried every single color. I tried different amounts, different combinations. I did what Ink would have done. You know what happened?” Tat’s claws tensed around Edit’s SOUL. “I puked it all up. Every single color.” He growled, “So please believe me when I tell you once and for all that _Ink. Is. Dead.”_

Dream tightened his grip on his staff. _No… no no…_ His shoulders started to shake, but he forced himself a step closer. “Okay. Okay I understand that now-” 

“So you say. But the reality is you’re still going to try and find a way to bring him back.” Tat shook his head. “It really doesn’t matter what I say, does it? Talk is meaningless with a being that blindly trusts what he wants to see instead of what’s in front of him.” 

“Why did you take Edit’s SOUL?” 

“I wasn’t aiming for his SOUL. Your _fiery friend_ is…” Tat paused, tilting his head slightly. “Well, not entirely useless, I suppose.” 

“I resent that,” Zest scowled as he reappeared. Dream startled, almost swiping the elemental across the face with his staff.” 

“Zest! What are you doing?! Why do you have Edit’s body?” 

Tat stepped forward. “I asked him. Set him down in front of me.” 

Dream stared between the two. “Are you serious? We’re just going to listen to Tat as if nothing suspicious is happening?” 

Zest glanced at Dream. “It was either I bring Edit’s body, or I brought Tat to Edit.” 

_The Tree…_ Dream bit his tongue, frowning. _Did he know about the tree…? Or maybe he’s trying to make us slip…?_ Tat glanced between the two, patiently waiting as Dream dematerialized his staff and sighed. Zest gently set the body down and took a step or two back with the guardian. 

Tat approached, slowly dropping to his knees, then leaning back to sit on his ankles. He shifted the SOUL to one hand and pulled a paintbrush from his pocket with another. 

“Hey what are you doing?” Zest muttered. 

He didn’t answer. Instead, he sliced Edit’s shirt open more, exposing the stained bones and dried blood. Tat mirrored the shirt slice on his own stained shirt. Dream and Zest exchanged uncertain glances. _Should they stop this? What’s even going on?_ Tat dipped the paintbrush into Edit’s SOUL, withdrawing a drop of the essence. Everything seemed to be slowing down. They watched Tat draw a symbol on his own ribcage. A symbol that seemed to burn into the bones with a brilliant golden glow before settling into a scorched black color with a shimmer. 

Tat’s expression never changed. 

Again, he withdrew a drop of Edit’s SOUL onto the paintbrush, but turned to Edit’s own body. He focused on the exact same spot and drew the exact same symbol, with a few extra details. The symbol burned into Edit’s ribcage. His SOUL sucked back into his body. His sockets popped open and he **screamed.**

Dream immediately jumped between them, “WHAT DID YOU DO?!” His staff was formed once again, and the tip was at Tat’s neck. Tat didn’t move. “Dammit,” Dream growled, “What did you do to Edit?!” 

Tat didn’t seem to comprehend that Dream was threatening him. Or that Dream was there. He blinked placidly. Tears formed in his sockets as Edit’s scream died into a wheezing breath. 

There was something glowing in Tat’s sockets. Something Dream hadn’t seen in a while. 

_Eye lights…_

Tat blinked again, the symbols coming back stronger. They were yellow and blue bulls eyes, very similar to Error’s left eye. He looked up to Dream, murmuring, “A deal has been made, guardian. Will you continue to assist me, or will you remove yourself from my plans?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Answers will come in due time, I promise!_


	15. A Deal with a Devil?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A conversation between two entities...

_“You sense it too…”_ a voice echoed around him. 

Everything was dark. Of course it would be… “Where am I…?” 

_“All that negativity…”_

“What…?” Edit tried to look around himself, but the darkness was overwhelming. It practically dripped a dark purple in its blackness. “…Who are you?” 

_“You know me. We’re friends.”_ We **are** or we **were**? Edit found himself wondering. The voice continued, _“You’ve just gotten your new abilities. I can help.”_

“I… I don’t know who you are.” Why is it so dark? What…? Is there something covering my sockets? 

_“You do. Worry not about your body. It is safe, for the moment.”_

My chest…

_“You weren’t my intended target, I’ll admit…”_ The voice murmured. _“But that’s okay. A SOUL is a SOUL. You’re… you’re so warm…”_

A SOUL…? No, he… he was Edit! He- 

Flashes of ribs cracking and a scream sounded. _His_ scream. “Tat…?” 

Fingers tightened around Edit. He tried to shrink from them, but what could you do when your body wasn’t… 

He was brought closer to what looked like a caged purple-blackness. A blackness that tried to seep into him. 

He _screamed_ , fighting against it. “Tat!” he yelled desperately. “Tat! Tat, don’t! I-if we’re really friends, you won’t steal my SOUL! I… _I won’t let you!”_

The grip around him tightened slightly more and Edit found himself crying out fearfully. No! No, please, no…!

_“I’m so cold… I’m so… Nobody understands… Nightmare and Nobody both understand, but Nobody…”_

Oh… Edit’s SOUL shivered in Tat’s grasp as realization set in. 

Abruptly, Edit was brought near that darkness again and held there. Not trying to be shoved in, but not being taken further away.

_“You can’t have it.”_ Edit heard Tat hiss, but his voice sounded so much further away. _“No…_ No…” then, more certainly and with what seemed like a smile, _“No. You aren’t.”_

Almost instantly, a fight began. Edit could feel the intense emotions of whoever was attacking Tat, and Tat _using those emotions against them._

To the little golden SOUL, the emotional pressures felt incredibly dense and heavy. Even the emotions that would usually be described as blazing or lashing or even with temperatures, they all felt like weights to Edit. 

_“Pay attention, my friend.”_ Tat’s whisper sounded so much louder than when he was snapping at his enemy just moments ago. _“Pay attention because you’re going to need this knowledge later.”_

The enemy summoned magic. Magic that shimmered darkly with a familiar eerie sensation as the purple-black mess that was in Tat’s rib cage-

_Nightmare._

_“Very good.”_

Nightmare’s magic lashed towards Tat, and distantly, Edit thought he heard the lord of darkness threatening Tat. Or demanding he join him. Honestly, Edit wasn’t entirely sure. For all he really knew, Nightmare was proposing to Tat in an incredibly violent manner. He was still gripped tightly in one of Tat’s claws, and held protectively against the skeleton’s stained chest. Flashes of pain started to break Tat’s concentration, pain that Edit thought he shouldn’t have been able to feel.

“Please,” Edit shuddered. “P-please, tell me, why did you take my SOUL?” 

_“Now is not the best time to distract me, Nobody.”_

He ignored him, certain he was going to die anyway. “What are the tattoos for? Why did you take mine away? What does Nightmare want with you, and what do you want with me?”

_“…”_ More pain laced the skeleton’s body when… he stilled. The darkness in his chest flared, the purple magic growing more intense. 

“Tat!” Edit yelled out. 

Nightmare’s magic was fading… n-no… that wasn’t quite right… it was being _driven back_ , wasn’t it…? 

A fine time to lose ones body…

Soon, Edit was feeling more pain, but… it was distant. _“Not mine,”_ Tat corrected smugly. 

“You’re actually _hurting_ Nightmare?!” The pain from the lord of darkness kept getting stronger until it _vanished._ “What happened?! Where’d he go?!” 

_“He escaped. I have a question for you, Edit.”_ Tat blew by whatever questions the former destroyer would have wanted to ask. _“It is a very important question and I want you to think about the answer to it. You wanted to know my plans all that time ago? I cannot accomplish my goals without you. My question for you is, will you help me willingly?”_

What…? “Will you tell me your plans?”

_“I cannot tell them to you in full. If you’re compromised, it’ll ruin everything I’ve worked for.”_

“A…aren’t you trying to get a SOUL?” 

_“I was. I still might be. You… rejecting me yours… has not helped.”_ It felt like Tat’s attention split. Like he was having more than one conversation at once.

Oh… how…? Is he projecting his thoughts into my SOUL…? Edit shuddered. This guy is getting freakier and freakier… 

“Yeah, that’s cuz it’s my SOUL, dumbass.” 

_“… that is not-”_ Tat growled, _“Will your help be of your own accord, or will I need to force you to help?”_

“I have a question for you, before I answer yours.” At Tat’s annoyed huff, Edit murmured, “Does your plan benefit the multiverse?”

_“…most likely.”_

“Most-?”

_“Are you helping me or not?”_

“…If your plans benefit the multiverse, then I will happily and willingly help.” The grip around his SOUL lessened, and Edit added, “But if it doesn’t? I will wage a war against you.”

_“Says the cute little SOUL.”_

“I’m NOT-” 

_“Stay still, little Edit. This will not be comfortable for you.”_

———

The next time Edit was aware of his surroundings, he could actually see them. Zest sat by him with a clipboard in his lap. On the bedside table, there was a crystal that seemed to hum softly. It was… rather soothing.

At the foot of the bed sat Tat, who’s sockets met Edit’s own and didn’t leave. Edit blinked slowly before seeing yellow and blue bulls-eye eye lights in the stained skeleton’s sockets. He sat up quickly, “What-?” 

Zest set his clipboard aside and gently put flaming hands on his shoulders. “Hey, easy there Edit… you’ve still got a nasty wound on your chest.” 

“My…” once his focus turned to his chest is when he felt something that seemed to _burn._

He turned blazing eye lights back to Tat. “What did you do to me?” 

“We made a deal, friend.” His expression… _he actually had an expression…?_ There were subtle lines at the outer corner of his sockets, and his skeletal grin was quirked up slightly on one side. _Mischievous. That’s definitely the face of a trouble-maker._ Tat’s features softened slightly. “Are you worried about if I have your SOUL?” 

“Heh, a deal with the devil?” Edit scowled fiercely. 

Zest glanced between the two before focusing on his patient and murmuring, “One of your chest injuries is several broken ribs. The other…” an uncomfortable glance was shot to the tattooist. “Well, it seems to be a tattoo using a mix of a few drops of your SOUL and Tat’s magic.” 

“A few drops of my SOUL? You’re shitting me, right?” at Zest’s blank stare, Edit turned a horrified gaze to Tat. “You used my SOUL? Do you have any idea what’s going to happen?” 

“No. Neither do you or your friends. More importantly? _Neither does Nightmare.”_

Edit couldn’t move. He… he made a psycho deal with a psychopath who doesn’t even have a full plan worked out…? What-? 

“Before you freak out more,” Tat tilted his head slightly, “Consider that this is a mutually beneficial deal.” 

“How in the _heck_ is this _mutually beneficial?!_ You don’t have a _SOUL_ so you tried to steal mine! And now you’re saying we have matching tattoos?!” 

Tat smiled slowly. Mysteriously. He subtly nodded his head to Zest and shook his head. _Not in front of the scientist,_ the motion said. 

Edit narrowed his eyes. _Later, then._ He lay back against the pillows and groaned. “Can I please get some rest…” 

Zest nodded, standing up with his clipboard. “C’mon Tat. Dream and I have some questions for you.” 

Silently, Tat was led out of the room, though he gave Edit one last long look before the door shut them apart. 

_…if we’re apart, why can I still feel his presence as if he were right beside me…?_ Edit frowned up at the ceiling and shut his sockets. _Heal first, interrogate next..._


	16. Companions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your patience! Had some wifi and IRL stuff happen that delayed this chapter, but here it is~

_I don’t even know what your plans are!_ Dream had wanted to scream. Still wanted to, if he was being honest. _Nobody_ knew what Tat’s plans were! And the guardian was starting to suspect the fool didn’t know his own plans either. 

Practically trapping Tat against the door to Edit’s room, Zest began, “What was-?”

Dream interrupted, “What the hell are you doing?!” What was that tattoo you gave Edit? Why do you have eye lights now? Why-?” 

Honestly, Tat zoned out. There were too many questions, and he wasn’t in the mood to answer any of them. They were all things they didn’t need to know yet. 

“How about this,” Tat interjected. Dream and Zest stared at him, so he continued, “Why don’t we all get some food after Edit’s rest, and I’ll answer one question from the both of you?” 

“Only one…?” they harmonized, glancing between each other. 

“If I feel like it,” Tat amended. 

“If you feel-?” Dream frowned. “That’s-” 

“Fine.” Zest nodded. “Alright, we’ll do that.” 

Tat nodded too, going to open the door. 

Dream stopped him, “Tat, can I speak to you alone?” 

“No.” 

Dream’s eye lights sharpened. “Why not?” 

He shrugged. “I don’t want to go further away from Edit.” 

“You don’t _want_ to…?” 

Frustration laced into the tattooist’s next words, “Is that hard to understand for you, guardian? I do not want to leave Edit, so I will not. Having this door closed between us is more than I wanted in the first place, but I had a _feeling_ that the two of you didn’t want to talk to me in front of him.” 

At an exchange of glances, Tat scowled and re-entered the room. He took a spot next to the slumbering Edit.

———

The evening bled into the day when Edit woke from his rest. Tat hadn’t moved from his spot by Edit, so he was the first being the recovering skeleton saw when he opened his sockets. As he had told the other two, he didn’t want to leave Edit, so he _didn’t_. He barely allowed a curtain to fall between them so Edit could change clothes.

But even the off-hand comment about the tattooist being clingy didn’t seem to deter him. 

Soon enough, the four of them were seated in a neutral AU, in a cafe, as if they were old friends meeting up after a long break. Or they were on an awkward double first date. 

So, the silence was… probably to be expected. 

But for it to be so incredibly awkward…?! 

Tat didn’t seem to mind. He drank his boba tea and chewed on the tapioca pearls with interest. “I didn’t know they made different flavors!” 

Zest and Dream stared at him. _Didn’t… isn’t he unable to feel…?_ Simultaneously, they glanced to Edit. The recovering skeleton was digging into his pastries and chugging tea as if his life depended on it. Well, maybe it did? Several days without food wasn’t- 

_He should slow down, he's going to make himself sick_ , Dream hesitantly reached for him. “Um, Edit-?” 

“He’ll be fine,” Tat snapped. 

Edit glanced up, then between them. “Hmm?” he hummed curiously. 

As if feeling the heat from Dream’s and Tat’s glaring at each other, Zest interrupted, “So, Tat, you seem livelier than usual.” 

The tattooist glanced at him, a guarded expression on his face. “Do I?” 

“Yeah. That’s not a bad thing! Just maybe a little surprising, considering-” 

“My lack of a SOUL?” 

“Yes, exactly.” 

Tat stirred his tea, sucking up another pearl to chew on. “I don’t think I should tell you why that is. Mostly because I think you two already know why.” 

“Your tattoo,” Zest nodded to Edit. “The one you gave yourself and to him. It bound you two together didn’t it? You said something about a deal being made-” 

“I strongly urge you to stop questioning me about this, Zest.” Tat turned his colored gaze to the fiery being. “And do not ask Edit about it. Besides! We’re out for food, right?” 

Dream tightened his grip around his cup of coffee. “How about you throw us a fucking rope, Tat? Shine a light on what the fuck’s going on? What are you planning? Why do you need Edit? What’s going on between you and my brother? You said you’d answer at least one of our questions, so why don’t you start?” 

Tat slurped the rest of his drink. He kept noisily trying to suck down the rest of the pearls and liquid, until it was obvious that the guardian was going to throttle him to death. “Hmm…” Tat sat back, holding the empty glass. He stared ahead then shrugged, “Yeah, I did say I would answer a question… But you just asked _so many_ of them.” 

Taking a slow breath to try and calm himself didn’t stop his words from coming out as a growl, “What is the point of your matching tattoo with Edit?” 

“We’re twinsies now,” he winked. 

Edit shifted uncomfortably in his seat, “Actually, I’d like to know too…” 

Tat looked to him, his small smile from the joke faded. “Edit…” 

“C’mon, Tat… please don’t mess around with us about this. If this is something that could get you or myself hurt, I think I’d deserve to know, right?” Edit offered a hand. “So please…?” 

Slowly, the tattooist took Edit’s hand, but avoided his eyes. “We’re connected now.” 

“…is that it?” Zest sounded disappointed. 

Eyes flashing, Tat nearly growled, “That’s all you need to know.” Just as quickly, an excited smile graced his face. “I’m going to get more boba tea.” He squeezed Edit’s hand, “I’ll get you a refill,” and he was walking to the counter of the cafe. 

Dream stared at Edit. “Do you feel anything? Are you okay?” 

“I…” Edit rubbed his forehead, uncertainly. “I’m okay but… Tat’s… overwhelmed. He’s got a lot going on.” 

“What do you mean, Tat’s overwhelmed? Can you… does he have emotions?” 

“It’s hard to explain…” Edit frowned. “It’s like… I’m feeling two sets of emotions inside myself, but one set keeps being leeched away, but it’s…” he glanced over his shoulder, where Tat was smiling and picking up the new drinks. Edit smiled slightly, albeit distractedly. 

Dream murmured, “Can you still feel everyone else’s emotions?” 

“No… no not anymore…” 

“Having fun trying to figure out our connection, stalker?” Tat greeted them, setting down their drinks. “Yeah, I know it’d be easier if I just told you, but I can’t trust you three, not fully. But that isn’t your fault. Not really.” 

“Is that code for you don’t know?” Dream narrowed his sockets. 

Tat merely smiled at the guardian and, again with keeping eye contact, began to drink his tea. 

_Ohhh_ … Dream didn’t think he’d ever wanted to harm someone so much in his entire life until now…


	17. Understood, boss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Changing gears slightly with a new perspective~!

Walking into the orchard should have been relaxing, at least. There are literal _rows_ of trees and apples waiting to be watered and pruned and plucked. The apples themselves to be collected and juiced down to a toxic substance to continue feeding the Tattooist. Maybe even to start dosing others, like his old nightmares. 

It was a mistake to kill them. A mistake he hadn’t realized at the time. 

A mistake he was _paying_ for now. 

“Howdy!” 

The lord of darkness sighed, and turned towards the only thing he was certain he felt actual fear towards… 

A bright yellow daisy with an even brighter smile on it’s face. “Where is my puppet, Nightmare?” 

He scowled and turned away from the flower. “Escaped. **You** said you were going to watch it.” 

“Teeheehee! So, you intentionally misheard me?” 

“…” Nightmare turned an ugly expression towards it. “What do you want?” 

“You’re not feeding them enough. If you’re not careful, _it’s going to be you on the menu._ ” 

“You won’t,” the lord faced the flower fully again, raising his one brow with a challenging smirk. “Who would willingly tend to your orchard in my stead?” 

It was bouncing on it’s stem in thought, with a leaf touching just below it’s smile. “Hmmm… can’t get a lot of _willing_ help… but I do still have one more contact.” 

“Even _you_ aren’t stupid enough to let **him** near the orchard. Something about oil and water not mixing?” 

“Tee hee!” it giggled again, turning wide eyes to the gooping skeleton before it, “That’s what a _back-up plan_ is for, is it not?” 

Nightmare fell silent. He watched the creepy flower waving in the air as if there was a wind. It continued smiling at him, expectantly. But it was a rhetorical question, and Nightmare didn’t feel like wasting time answering. He glanced away, “Is there something you needed from me, then?” 

“Your brother tried purifying one of my seeds. It’s already grown and an apple consumed. Up until recently, I was able to track both the golden apple eater, and my puppet, but I haven’t been able to,” It pointed a leaf at him, “I need you to track down the golden tree and destroy it. Preferably with your brother as well.” 

“I alread-” 

“Yes yes, you’ve killed him once before. Should be easy the second time. Kill him again. Drag him away from the world he’s in and kill him somewhere far far away so you have time to destroy that tree.” A vine crept up Nightmare’s leg and into one of his many jacket pockets until it withdrew a murky purple vial. “If you find the golden apple eater, force this down his throat.” 

Restraining shivers of disgust, Nightmare plucked the vial from the vine and slowly nodded, “Understood, boss.” 

“Good!” The petals quivered with excitement, and it withdrew it’s vine from him. “Remember, Nighty boy! This is a business transaction~!” 

He glanced away. “Yeah, I remember.” 

It giggled one last time before disappearing into the soil with a soft _pop_! 

He clenched his fist around the vial, glancing over his shoulder at the rows and rows of negativity trees. All his hard work. All those deaths and all that suffering. 

Walking into the orchard _should_ have been relaxing… 

But it was his suffering, more than others, that fed the damned place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A _very_ special shout-out to @Golden_Au, who helped me figure out _exactly_ where I wanted to go with this story because I was juggling about 5 different endings and now I have a solidly clear path~! Love ya, beau!


	18. Like a Gold Thread?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edit finally starts getting some questions answered! ....sort of?

The boba date had passed several days ago, but Tat was still… Tat. 

Edit frowned at the strange skeleton. His gaze always seemed to be drawn to him, no matter what else was going on in Edit’s mind. There was now always some portion that kept thinking of Tat. Right now, the tattooist was writing in a notebook and tapping the pen against his chin. 

Briefly, he entertained the thought that it was because he used to think about the stupid artist, from before either of them encountered the apples. Ink was _always_ on Error’s mind. But they were gone, and seemingly in their place was Tat and Edit. As he stared at the tattooist, he listened to the emotions being leeched from him. 

_Consideration. Annoyance._ The annoyance was growing. 

_How fucking confusing…_

Without glancing up, Tat murmured, “If you think hard enough, smoke’s going to come out your orifices.” 

Considering how one of Tat’s attacks seemed to involve smoke, Edit took it seriously. “Really?!” his hands flew to his face, feeling his nose and sockets and mouth- just to stop at the spark of humor that leeched its way to Tat. Narrowing his sockets on the other, Edit growled, “That isn’t funny.” 

“It’s a little funny!” Finally, he looked up and smiled at Edit with the same blue-and-yellow bullseye lights the other sported. “Lighten up a little. And stop thinking so hard. You’re going to give me a headache.” 

“Why’d you-?” 

“Ah, ah! You know not to ask me.” 

“Is Dream right?” Edit frowned. “Do you really not know what you’re doing?” 

Tat’s attention seemed to drift back to his notebook. “I know exactly what I’m doing. My mind hasn’t been this clear in…” his expression blanked and he glanced up again. “Who’re you?” 

The former destroyer wrung his fingers together. _Incredulous, startled, worried-_

Tat chuckled. “I’m _messing_ with you Edit. It’s been a long time since I could actually remember stuff.” His smile faded slightly. “You need to trust me. How much do you really know about Dream and Zest? I mean _really_?” 

“Well, Dream’s the guardian of positivity. He’s Nightmare’s brother-” 

“Boring. I already know that.” 

Edit frowned, thinking harder. “He’s older than he looks…?” 

“That’s it? Do you know his motives?” 

“I don’t even know yours!” Edit stormed over and sat heavily across from Tat. “Why? Do _you_?” 

He shrugged and glanced down at his notebook. “And what about Zest?” 

“…he’s a fire elemental? That was one of the only successful experiments of a Gaster and a Sans and a Grillby…? Oh, and he has a stone or whatever that can soak up your smoke stuff.” 

Tat was slowly nodding, but he paused. “You’re missing something.” 

“I am…?” 

“Yeah.” Tat narrowed his sockets. “He’s got a child. A genderfluid _skelemental_ like him named Zeal. A genius, actually. They’re barely fourteen, turning fifteen soon and they’re almost a professor at a university in an AU _suspiciously_ far from the guardian trees.” 

The former destroyer tensed. “How’d you-?” 

“I can sense them? And I know you ate one? And-” Tat’s expression darkened, but he bit his tongue and turned back to his notes. “We need to visit Zeal. See if they have any leads.” 

Edit stood quickly, waving his hands in a denial. “What?! No! We’re not gonna crash on some _kid_ who we haven’t even met yet just to grill them with a bunch of questions they-! No! That was NOT an intentional pun, dammit!” Edit snarled when Tat started to giggle. “Listen, Tat, we can’t just drag Zest’s _kid_ into this!” 

“We also cannot trust Zest.” 

“Why not?! YOU were the one that grabbed my SOUL, idiot!” 

Tat’s temper flared, taking a bit of Edit’s with it. “I wasn’t aiming for _your_ SOUL, stupid, I was aiming for _his_ because-!” Again, he cut himself off, glancing around as if visually gathering his thoughts. “Edit,” Tat tried again, voice softer, “I need you to trust me. I need you to trust when I say that Zest is bad news and talking to his kid is probably the best chance we have to beat it!” 

“…Beat what…?” 

Slowly, Tat made his way around the table and grabbed Edit’s hands. He looked the other in the eyes, frowning. It almost felt like they were one person, though their memories and thoughts were still separate for the moment-

“Dammit, are you blocking me?” Tat hissed. “We’re supposed to be able to…” he narrowed his sockets slightly, squeezing Edit’s hands tighter. “Alright. Alright _fine_. I’ll tell you something. Close your eyes.” 

“Are you-?” 

“Yes! I’m serious! You can _sense_ that I’m serious! Just do it!” 

Grin quirking up slightly, Edit did as Tat instructed. “Okay? Now what?” 

“Now… you feel our hands? Imagine that as a… gateway. Or a road. Or a path of some sort connecting us-” 

“Like a gold thread?” 

“You see it like a gold thread?” he paused in consideration, before a smile affected his voice. “That’s adorable.” 

Edit shifted his weight, grumbling, “Shut up…” 

Tat tapped his thumb on the back of the other’s hand. “Alright, focusing. So. Your thread. You’re already sensing what I’m feeling, right?” At his nod, he continued, “Well, you can sense more than that, if you open yourself up to it. Right now, you’re subconsciously blocking me because you don’t trust me. On some level, you might be scared of me. That’s fine. But if you want to know what I won’t tell you, you’re going to have to open yourself up to me. A-and I’ll do the same for you.” 

_Is… Tat afraid…?_ “How do you know this’ll work?” 

“That was the intent I put into our tattoos.” 

Edit cracked a socket open to peer at him, startling slightly when he saw the other’s eyes boring into his. Quickly, the former destroyer shut his sockets and re-focused on the thread. _Open myself up to him…? How? By trusting him? He hasn’t given me a good reason to trust him!_

_He hasn’t… has he…?_

But still, he released the preconceptions he had of the tattooist to the best of his abilities and imagined the thread becoming more of a woven rope. _Hopefully, this isn’t one that’ll be used as a noose…_

_It won’t be if we trust each other_ , Tat’s voice murmured softly in Edit’s mind. 

He startled, hands flying to his head and sockets shooting open to stare at Tat. “WHAT WAS THAT?!” 

_Telepathy._ Tat’s voice echoed, but his mouth didn’t move. _There aren’t many in this multiverse with this skill, so it’s helpful between us. Are you going to help me talk to Zeal? I can tell you a story on the way._

_WAIT, HOW-_

_QUIETER!_ Tat wobbled on his feet slightly, grabbing his temples. _Dammit, think in a whisper before you give us both a headache!_

“Oh…” Edit grinned sheepishly. _Yeah… is your story going to be relevant to why you feel the need to bring in a fourteen-year-old into this mess between us and the guardian brothers?_

_I promise you, it is…_


	19. Storytime!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tat starts to tell Edit a story, on their way to talk to Zeal!

_Once upon a time…_

_Are you fucking kidding me…?_

_Listen, asshole. I’m a tattooist. Not a linguist or a wordsy person or whatever._

_….fine…_

_Good. Now… once upon a time, the world was a seed…_

_That’s fucking stupid._

_….DO YOU WANT ME TO TELL YOU THE DAMN STORY OR NOT?!_

_OW!! …prick…. Yeah, tell me the story!_

_Interrupt me again and I’ll leave you in silence! …where was…? Oh right. The seed. And the world. But it was actually the **multiverse** that was the seed…_

———

…And as the seed sprouted, it lent its roots out for the voices to settle their own worlds in. See, there were voices that had planted the seed and fostered it’s growth, but it was the new voices that made the plant the home of the multiverse. With each new world planted in its roots, the thing grew larger. Stronger. Though it lacked a SOUL to care too much about anything. Survival was its only interest.

It fostered the growth of each new world, gaining insights into what the voices wanted. The plant didn’t desire much, but found some amusement in letting the worlds do what they wanted. Until the sounds of the worlds’ inhabitants drowned out the voices that raised the plant. Not that the plant necessarily missed the voices, but it was much too loud without them, and with some of the inhabitants starting to break free from their worlds, the plant decided enough was enough. There were some that helped the plant willingly, and some that helped unknowingly. It didn’t matter much, until the Destroyer… 

The Destroyer was what many people in the worlds called a “glitch”. To the plant, it was a parasite. A parasite with a SOUL, which should have been easy to manipulate, but each attempt left the Destroyer angrier and more bloodthirsty than the last. Thankfully, the plant had a creature called the Protector. A being as equally soulless as itself with one flaw: 

It _chose_ to care. 

See, it had the ability to consume colors equating to several vast emotions, and the Protector used those colors to choose to care about its self-appointed job. But the plant needed it to get rid of the parasite, or at least turn it towards the cancerous worlds that rotted its roots. It took _hundreds_ of years for a… better solution to present itself-

———

“Oh, we’re here already,” Tat stared up at the doors to the college building.

“Wait!” Edit stepped in front of him, incredulously. “That’s not it! That… that can’t be-!” 

_What you need to know is that the tree was tainted. And we both ate the tainted fruit. We’re both in danger._

Ignoring their telepathy, Edit growled, “And what’s this little kid gotta do with it?!” 

“…” Tat returned his attention to the door. _Their father made a deal with the multiverse plant. I think it’s… well, I don’t know what kind of plant it is. It shows up as a daisy everywhere, but the roots, and the way it survives whatever’s thrown at it…? Not to mention if we kill it-_

_We can’t KILL the thing that’s keeping the damned multiverse together!_

Tat smiled. _We can, if it is what I think it is._ “Come on,” he opened the door for Edit. “They await. I booked us an appointment.” Tat followed Edit in, then took the lead. Through the receptionist area, then up several flights of stairs- “I hate elevators,” Tat explained unapologetically- and through two hallways. They made it to a door with ‘Zeal, PhD (x3)’ engraved on a plaque just below the covered window. So, the tattooist knocked. 

Almost immediately, the door opened, and standing there was a being that looked almost exactly like Zest, albeit a little shorter, younger, and with features that seemed to constantly, if subtly, shift between male, female, and neutral. “You must be Tat.” 

“Zeal,” the tattooist offered a charming nod and smile. “This is Edit. I hope you don’t mind his presence?” 

“Edit…?” Zeal frowned, pushing their glasses up on their skull. “…you two are with my father, aren’t you?” 

“Right now, we’re with you.” 

Zeal scowled at Tat. “Not what I meant. What does my father want now? He knows I’m busy-” 

“Actually, we’re here on our own accords.” 

_Mostly_ Edit grumbled to himself. 

Glancing between them, Zeal sighed and invited them in. The guests took their seats at a large, messy desk while Zeal sat in the stool on the other side. “How can I help you gentlemen, then?” 

Tat crossed his fingers on Zeal’s desk and leaned forward. “How much do you know about what your father’s research is on?” 

“He’s doing some research regarding magical energies,” caution flashed behind their flaming sockets. “Similarly to me, but I’m not creating nearly useless gizmos to test my hypotheses. Why?” 

Edit stared between them. Magical energies…? 

“I heard you were more focused on the… emotional energies aspect of magic?” Tat smiled. “Like the human traits that so many Sans from so many AUs are interested in?” 

“…yes…” Zeal’s tone was full of caution as they stared at Tat. “Yes, my work tends towards the emotional aspect.” 

“Why?” 

“….why…?” 

“Yeah,” Tat leaned closer. “Why emotional? What made you go this route instead of a different one? Were you given an incentive by someone? Or is it just a passion of yours?” Zeal fidgeted uncomfortably, still glancing between them. Edit felt a flash of anger, immediately leeched off to Tat. “Well?!” 

“Tat, c’mon, give them a break.” 

_I’ve received exactly zero answers. Do not stop me._ “Do you know about what your father is _really_ doing?” 

“Tat-!” 

Ignored. Tat still stared down at Zeal, but the kid started to feel so much shorter than the height granted to them by their father. “I… just…” Zeal clenched their fists together and growled, “My father’s business is his own.” 

“Do you know about the guardians? About the Destroyer and Protector?” 

“They’re all dead.” 

The smile that graced Tat’s face was just shy of… cruel. “They’re not.”


	20. Zeal Joins the Party?

“They’re not?” 

Zeal’s words echoed Edit’s own confusion. How many times had Tat insisted that Ink was dead? Just for him to say the Protector is still alive…?! The golden-teared skeleton tried to peer into his companion’s mind, and was met with a harsh block. _Tat!_

His focus remained on the skelemental teen in front of him. “They still live.” 

“No… no I heard they were killed. The four of them.” 

“And who told you that?” 

“My fath-” Zeal stopped, narrowing their sockets at Tat. “What are you trying to get at? That my dad is protecting those people from me?” 

“Maybe. But maybe it’s more… the other way around.” 

_Protecting Zeal from… from us? But why?! They’re just a kid compared to us! Why would we…?_ Edit broke in, “I’m sorry, um… Zeal. I don’t know what’s going on with him, but-” 

“Why would my dad be trying to protect me from them? The guardians and the Protector? The Destroyer, I can understand. Probably.” Edit fidgeted with annoyance at the humor leeched from him. “But the others?” 

“Consider a world where your dad is evil. Or,” Tat added quickly, “maybe he’d do anything to protect his…” watching Zeal’s form shift between multiple genders for a moment, “teenager. Monsters have been known to do strange and terrible things to keep their loved ones safe, and parents are the best example of that.” 

Zeal clenched their fists. Their fire whipped atop their head, shifting colors, but steadily growing darker. “You’d better get to the bottom of why you’re insinuating my father is evil soon. He cares a lot about me, but he’d never resort to something…” Zeal glanced around, as if searching for the word, “he’d never stoop so low to keep me safe.” 

Tat stared, the smile still on his face. For a second, Edit thought he died like that. Or maybe he’d frozen like that. 

“Sure,” he nodded slightly. “What do you know about the multiverse?” 

Impatience made Zeal’s fire crackle. “Why are you gentlemen here? To insult my father? To question my intelligence? Because if that’s going to be all, I’d like for you to leave. I have several papers I need to get written by next week-” 

“We’re not here to insult you or yours, Zeal,” Tat smoothed as Edit sat with his own growing panic. _What are you doing?!_ he tried to scream at Tat, only being met with that infuriating block. “All of this is connected. I just want to understand what you know of it all.” 

“Connected?” Edit just barely restrained himself from echoing his thoughts aloud with Zeal’s words, though the first stared harshly at his companion. 

The skelemental studied them for a second longer. “Connected. My father, the guardians, the Protector, the Destroyer and the multiverse. You’re telling me all this is… connected. Fine,” they leaned back in their seat, “Amuse me. How is that so?” 

_Why does it feel like we’re trying to get approval from the boss we hate…?_ Edit frowned. 

But Tat’s smile just grew. “Short story: the multiverse is a plant playing checkers, and the five are key players that can either help or harm the plant.” 

“…pfft.” 

“Something funny?” 

“The multiverse isn’t a _plant_!” 

“It is.” 

“No!” 

“What evidence have you against it?” Tat tilted his head slightly. His smile didn’t waver. 

“What evidence have you _for_ it?!” 

“It… _spoke_ to me,” came the soft reply. 

_…oh Tat…_ Edit watched the confident, cruel expression change just slightly to invite a hint of pain forward. Pain Edit was sure the asshole wouldn’t admit to later, but… 

Frowning, Zeal adjusted themself in their seat and shuffled through some notes on their desk. “…well, there’s no evidence contradicting what you’ve said, but there’s none even suggesting it anyway.” 

“Take the leap of faith with me. If a being can be alive without a SOUL, surely the multiverse could be held within the roots of a not-so-kind plant?” 

“…” Zeal glanced up, frowning more as they thought it over. “…how would you go about proving this?” 

“Destroy the guardian trees. Again. They’ll crop up somewhere that either the Guardian of Darkness will find, or your father.” 

“Tat-!” 

Zeal growled, “My father wouldn’t-” 

“He _would_ ,” there was a flash in his eyes. Impatience, coldness, a dark apathy. “If his child was threatened.” 

“Woah, hold on!” Edit grabbed Tat’s arm and gave a tight squeeze, “Can I talk to you in _private_?!” 

_We have our telepathy._

_Which doesn’t work when you fucking **block** me, dumbass!_

Tat continued watching Zeal. “Think about it. Either your father is willing working with this plant, in which he’s doing work for it in exchange for your guaranteed safety, or he’s being threatened by the plant and is doing work for it in exchange for you to not be hurt.” 

Zeal frowned more, glancing between a bewildered Edit and a serious Tat. “You… really believe all our worlds are on some plant roots, huh?” 

“Wouldn’t be the craziest thing,” Tat sighed. “So, will you help us?” 

“Help you prove this plant is real? Or… what exactly are you asking help for?” 

“I already know the plant exists. If you need evidence, then we’ll have to put aside my plans even more and find some for you. But what’s important right now are the players. The guardians. The Protector. The Destoyer. And your father,” Tat’s gaze went momentarily distant. “Though you might be considered a sixth… if my thoughts are right… So, what say you?” 

Zeal stared at them incredulously for several more moments. Edit fidgeted in his seat next to Tat. _Why do you even want to get rid of this thing? **How** would you get rid of it??_ But Tat’s focus was on the teenager with the shifting gender. 

Sighing, Zeal shuffled their papers into a folder and hid them in their desk. “Let me at least pack my inventory up. I have a feeling you idiots are going to be dragging me around for a while…”


	21. The Players

Voices. There were always voices for the both of them. But they spoke different things. 

For the empty vessel, it was words of encouragement. Of love and life and expression. Those words showered something akin to colors down on the vessel, and it gained a life of sorts. A life that he was happy with, if for the moment. Though he figured it wasn’t quite the same as what others have dealt with. He knew his place in the multiverse after his first gift was granted to him from the voices. 

For the corrupted one, it was whispers of fear. Of anger and hatred and misunderstanding. Those words stabbed something akin to insanity through the one, and he was torn down several times over. A life he absolutely despised, if for the moment. Though he suspected it wasn’t quite the same as what others have dealt with. He, too, knew his place in the multiverse after his first curse was shoved upon him by the voices. 

Together, they were tied. The voices would say something about a _red string_ or about _soulmates_ , but how could the first be true if no string were visible, or even _felt?_ And how could the second be true with one of them lacking a soul? 

They had a destiny. A… pre-destined path that had already been walked before, but would be altered just slightly to ensure the Protector and the Destroyer stayed their titles. 

So when the flower appeared for the both of them, everyone felt… _something_. 

The Guardians felt the multiversal energy shift. 

_The Tattooist and the Editor did as well._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hello, y'all~! The updates are going to be sporadic (aiming for daily in November but we'll see), but the next chapter will be the first of November! 
> 
> ~~I'll not abandon the children, I swear!!~~
> 
> Thank you for your patience and understanding~!


	22. Slacker

If it weren’t for the elemental insisting on bringing heavy coats for the three of them, they probably would’ve begun to feel ice encasing their forms the moment they stepped through the portal. Though being made of fire had it’s own perks, there was only so much Zeal could do before they started to fizzle out. The two skeletons by their side made themselves aware of their new settings… Snowdin. At least, it was the snowy forest just before the little town. Quite a few AUs had this same setting, but it felt… closest to the original. Nearly stumbling over his words, Edit asked, “You said this is Aftertale? Why are we looking here first?” 

Zeal clung to themself in an attempt to keep their fire inside. They shot Edit a wide-eyed look, “You don’t recognize this place…?” 

Both skeletons stared back with the gold-teared one shaking his head slightly, “I recognize it as Aftertale, but there’s so many places with this same forest.” 

The teenager sighed and, trying not to shiver, jutted their chin towards the direction of the town. “Let’s at least get inside somewhere and I’ll explain…”

By the time they showed up to the town, Zeal’s flames were reduced to just barely cover their skeleton. Their bones clattered together, and jaw trembled with the force of trying to keep themself warm. The three of themselves made their way to Grillby’s bar and ushered the teenaged elemental into one of the booths. Tat peeled away to grab them drinks from Grillby himself, thankfully keeping his comments to himself. Meanwhile, Zeal shakily pulled a notebook from their inventory. “I can’t believe I’m already referring to this…” they stuttered breathily. 

“Why don’t you wait for Tat to come back-” 

“I don’t know if the person we’re looking for is still in this AU or not. Look. This AU has a very steady story,” here, they lowered their voice, trying to make sure no other bar patrons overheard their strange conversation, “The Sans here took Determination to stop his human from doing non-stop genocide routes, but when he dusted, he got stuck in the Save Screen. When _that_ happened, most of his SOUL was sent back at the next Reset so the Sans could go through the genocides again. But the Sans in the Save Screen started to call himself Geno.” Zeal stopped, staring up at Tat as he slid in next to the teenager. Unthinkingly, they moved closer. It wasn’t that the skeleton was that much warmer than the bar’s surroundings, but the comfort of a being nearby allowed Zeal to relax enough to warm up faster. 

“Eventually,” they continued once Zeal passed a drink their way, “Geno got sick and tired of watching himself fail over and over again to stop the genocide routes. This is where the story tends to branch out, or get confusing,” Zeal started to get visibly excited. “Maybe it was a god of death from a different AU came to reap Geno, but they ended up falling in love. Some versions state the god took Geno out of the Save Screen somehow. Others state that Geno got himself out, but became a glitch. A very _famous_ glitch known as Error, the Destroyer. _You_ used to be Error,” the teen poked Edit in the chest. “Now before you ask questions, let me tell you something even _more_ interesting,” they leaned forward, dropping their voice somewhat, “That cycle is still going. Currently, there is a Sans of Aftertale, and a Geno of Aftertale, and, if you two are right, a new Error is around somewhere. Or will be soon. That part, I’m unclear about.” 

“…so…. We’re looking for a new old me?” Edit asked. 

Tat sighed, leaning back in his seat to take a sip of cocoa, “We’re looking for the new Destroyer, Ed. Because if the Destroyer is around, that means the Protector is back, too.” 

“Now that I think on it… there was someone asking to see me at my office the other day… left his name as ‘Reaper’…” Zeal glanced down at their notebook with a considering expression. “I’m almost certain that’s the name of that god that fell for Geno…” 

Something within Edit… _remembered_. It was a strange and foreign feeling, but… _Reaper…?_ His SOUL lurched at the name, and a bit of pain accompanied had him releasing a sigh too quickly. 

“Why don’t we just find this Reaper and ask him where Error is? Summon him somehow? Do some…” Tat wiggled his fingers in a vague circle, “…magic stuff?” 

“No it isn’t that simple. He’s got to be a busy deity, covering deaths all over the multiverse…” 

Something told the former destroyer that _covering deaths all over the multiverse_ was one of the last things this Reaper guy wanted to do. He wasn’t sure why he felt like that. Was it the thought of being in this Reaper’s position of having to answer to every single death every single time? Was it the idea of being away from home for too long or all the time? Or was it just the idea of being persistently surrounded by death? Whichever the case, it made Edit want to take a nap -something he hadn’t done in a _long_ time. “I have a feeling he’s a slacker…” the gold-teared skeleton muttered without thought. 

_**“A S L A C K E R, H U H?”**_

Screaming, Edit leapt up in his seat, wrapping the terrifying voice next to him in thousands of thin golden threads. 

A black-cloaked skeleton with voids for eyes froze at the sudden predicament. Almost placidy, he blinked down at the strings encircling his form. “Well… were you attempting to kill Death? How-” he looked up, light-less sockets meeting the wild, slightly terrified bulls-eyes of Edit. “…m…my Geno…?” 

“I guess we won’t need to do your…” Zeal mimicked the motion Tat had made with his hands earlier, “Magic stuff, huh?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YMASSB!Reaper is heavily inspired by [Glimpse](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18667033/chapters/44269150) / [1E99](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19124509/chapters/45447628) (by Golden_Au) and [It's Not That Simple](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19322347/chapters/45961780) (by Golden_Au and myself!)


	23. A Scale of Perspectives

Reaper continued to stare at Edit. “Geno,” he murmured again. 

“Sorry, bud, I’m not… I’m not Geno.” 

“You are. Or… you were,” Zeal amended. 

The god barely took note of the other two, much to Tat’s irritation. “You were the original Sans of Aftertale, Ge- um… what name do you go by now?” 

“This is Edit. And _I_ am Tat,” said skeleton jumped in, narrowing his sockets at the god. 

Curiously, Reaper studied them. Specifically, their chests where their soul-bond sigils were tattooed. “Ah… a lot has changed, huh, Edit?” 

“It… appears so…?” Edit frowned at the god. He… _knew_ this guy. He… he was almost certain of it… but it felt like an old memory. Something nearly overwritten by glitches and rage. 

He couldn’t place his phalanges on it, but Reaper remembered. 

_It was just another job, though recently, it was feeling like the god was chasing after somebody. Too many souls killed in action called to him. Same as many instances before, but this time? He was early._

_He got to witness the absolute chaos wrecked by a single skeleton, pulling blue strings from his eyes. The laughter that escaped he at the epicenter of destruction would’ve sounded like a maniac to those untrained in hearing such sounds. To Reaper?_

_It was a pitiful sound. One born of pain and loss. It was **tears,** not laughter. And those very tears he screamed with were what took lives within seconds. To be embraced by those threads was to be killed, shredded to ribbons._

_Curiosity is what first drew the god closer. Sure, the souls called to him, and he really should’ve started to reap them immediately, but… the one causing the mess… That heartbroken sound? It… it was familiar._

_Reaper wanted to understand why. Why he was crying? Why was he wreaking havoc on this AU and its citizens? Why did his crying sound like laughter? Why was it so familiar?_

_Why wasn’t he **stopping?**_

_Without realizing it, the god drew the attention of another powerful entity: the guardian of negativity. He soon appeared behind the crying skeleton and ordered, “Capture him for me, Error.”_

_“Who?”_

_“The god of death. He’s watching you like he knows you.”_

_And when their sockets met, the mismatched with the voids, Reaper realized that yes. He… he **did** know this stranger. This Error. It… it was just on the edge of his mind, but the déjà vu of faint recognition seemed to flare through Error, too. Seemed to, only because he advanced, ready to follow orders._

_How does one catch a god? Heh, not easily. **Normally** not easily, but Reaper was distracted, trying to place the creature before him. ‘Who who who? Who are you?’ The answer walked towards him silently, pulling more string-tears from his sockets and watching him closely._

_“God of death, huh?” Error’s voice glitched, but… that mid-note… Reaper merely stared at him as he approached. **I recognize his voice.** Even with the jumps and drops of tone and the occasional skipping, he-_

_“Geno,” Reaper whispered._

_And through the angry, messy haze in Error’s mind, a voice screamed, **Don’t hurt Reaper!**_

_It almost didn’t matter. There were other voices in Error’s mind that threatened to overwhelm that tiny voice. But… the god wasn’t moving. The god of **death** was staring at the destroyer and calling the name of his lost loved one._

_“Sorry pal, I’m not Geno,” Error hissed. They both heard the lie._

_Deciding he was taking too long, the guardian of negativity reacted, tendrils shooting towards the god. Hearing them, the destroyer reacted, throwing his own strings and encasing Reaper in them. The god shrieked, battle instincts kicking in much too late, he fought to free his scythe, only slightly scared that the strings weren’t decomposing upon impact._

_Except there was a tiny portal at his feet. A portal that the strings dropped him through. Hearing multiple slicing noises, Reaper was able to glimpse the strings shredding where he had been not even a second ago. And the portal shut behind him._

Warmly, Reaper recalled, “As Error, you saved me from being used by Nightmare, though I didn’t really think to learn his name at the time. I tried to look out for you, just in case you needed me but… you vanished.” He scratched his neck, grinning almost shyly at Edit. “I… realize that might come off as a bit creepy, I just… I didn’t know if… where we stood… and if you had started a new family-“ 

“A _new_ family?” Tat interrupted. “Edit already has a family. Me.” 

Edit shot him a look. Reaper just barely managed to keep his amusement inside. That annoyed expression was shot at the god so many times, he could almost sketch it by heart, even though Edit’s changed so much… “Being soul-bound isn’t exactly _family._ Reaper, right?” the former destroyer turned that adorable glare on him, “How were we related then?” 

“We were dating. Way back when you were just Geno…” _I never got the chance to propose…_

“Heh, and now I’m just Edit.” He peered curiously at Reaper. “You don’t seem to be lying… but it’s been a long time since I was Geno. I… honestly, I barely remember it. It feels like a recurring nightmare to me than part of my life.” 

_A nightmare….?_

At the god’s crestfallen expression, Edit amended, “The darkness. The repetitive genocides. That’s all I really remember. I’d like to tell you that I want to give us a try, but honestly? I’m trying to help a tattooist and a teenaged genius… s-stop a… a cosmic… flower….?” _Stars, it sounded stark-raving mad when he said it out loud…_

Elated at Edit freely admitting his interest in Reaper, the god almost didn’t hear the second part. “A cosmic flower…? Oh, do you mean Flowey?” 

Suspicion immediately drained from Edit to Tat, as the latter growled, “Oh, so you just so happen to know this fucking plant?” 

“Language,” Zeal muttered. “I’m still here.” Quieter, they admitted, “Not that I care too much…” 

“Yeah, I know _of_ this plant,” Reaper nodded. “The problem isn’t trying to find him, it’s his guard.” The god looked to Edit for a long moment before turning his unnerving voids on Tat and Zeal. “I want to help.” 

“No. I don’t know you, I don’t _trust_ you, and I don’t believe you when you say you just-so-happen to have information on our enemy,” Tat growled. “Do you know what he’s planning?” 

“No offense, do _you?”_ Reaper shot back. “Or are you just thinking that I’m trying to take Edit from you instead?” At Tat’s silence, the god continued, “I’m not going to force Edit to pick between us. I simply want to offer my assistance. So, little artist, what’ll it be?” 

Tat ground his teeth together. “You’re just going to take him the moment my back is turned.” 

“That doesn’t sound like you’re denying my help.” 

Annoyance flared brighter in Tat’s sockets, made all the worse when Zeal nudged him and stage-whispered, “Tat, having a god of death in our corner is nothing but a benefit! Especially if what he’s saying about a guard is true?” 

“Oh, so you suddenly believe me about the flower?” He narrowed his sockets on the teen. 

Zeal narrowed their eyes. “I’m putting some things into… a scale of perspectives. From ‘I’m completely right’ to ‘You’re completely right’. But now there’s a third side: ‘Reaper’s completely right.’ I just want to see where we land on this triangle.” 

After several moments’ consideration, Tat glanced away and grumbled, “Welcome to the party… Reaper.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (TFW you accidentally unckeck the end note box T_T)
> 
> A huge thank you belongs to my darlin' Golden_Au for helping me decide on a direction, finally! I have the end in mind, but the route there has so many options and her support was so well needed, thank you love!


	24. Tra la la

_The path of the ferryperson is simple. Take others from their beginning to their end. That’s the ferryperson’s whole job. Their whole life revolves around others. Doubly so, when they’re meant to preserve another._

_There are quite a few types of paths though, aren’t there? The path from the bed to the kitchen for food. The path from home to work for money or experience. The path that forms between two or more people’s hearts when they open themselves up to each other. The path between worlds._

_The path from birth to death, then back again._

_And the path from trust to betrayal._

_The ferryperson parted their gaze from the star river they traveled upon. Their… charge, if you will. “Protect this river, and what it leads to,” someone once told them._

_But who…? Why?_

_It matters not._

_They have no motives. No goals of their own. No other thing to live for. Days, years, centuries. Time mattered not to the ferryperson. Neither gender, nor sex, nor even simpler pleasures such as food and drink. Company, though missed at times, was also of no matter._

_“Protect this river.”_

_What has this river done for them? They’ve ferried people across it for as long as they could recall. And sometimes, the river would demand a sacrifice. If this were a service that others could rate, it would likely gain a 98% satisfaction from those who’ve made it safely. The two percent being those who’s families had filed a complaint to their manager about missing a family member._

_Again, this make-believe customer service was for the ferryperson’s own amusement when none called upon them. In the end? It matters not._

_No one would hear the complaints of the dead, save for the river. And the river cared less than the ferryperson did._

It was quite strange for the ferryperson to receive a call from one of the gods of death. The Elder, whom **never** called upon their services, no matter what. The Younger would often call upon the ferryperson to aid in transporting SOULs into their next lives. The Elder rarely called, unless the SOUL in question was one undeserving of the violent death that befell them. Either that, or it was a laziness that which the Elder had admitted to before. 

What was even stranger, however, were the three living SOULs alongside the Elder Death God when the ferryperson arrived. _Ah… two SOULs, one shared among two bodies… quite the oddity…_ Nonetheless, transporting people was part of the ferryperson’s duties, so they inclined their head towards the god. “Welcome Reaper, Elder God of Death. What brings you to call upon me?” 

“We need you to take us to the Completist-” 

“No. Absolutely not.” 

“Eh, I figured asking wouldn’t hurt…” Reaper offered a grin. “In that cases, you’re our hostage, and we demand you to take us there.” 

Beneath the dark of their hood, the ferryperson smiled and leaned upon their oar. “Tra la la…. How aggressive of you." 

With a sigh, the god took a step closer and murmured, “We really need your help.” 

“I shall not help you. You seek a way to fight Nightmare, correct? He is your problem and has yet to become mine.” The ferryperson tilted their head. “I can take you to him, or upon a path to defeat him, but that’s all I’ll do. I’ll not bring you to the Completist.” 

“Old friend, please,” Reaper tried again. Confusion bubbled within Zeal and Edit. _The Completist…?_

Though the second was distracted by fear and anger, both leeched away. It left Edit feeling drained and somewhat weak at the initial rush of it. He glanced uncertainly towards his soulmate- 

His soulmate, who had taken steps past Reaper to get in the Ferryperson’s face, “Our fight isn’t with Nightmare!” Tat snarled. 

The ferryperson stilled slightly. Not that they were moving much in the first place, but now any sense of life they showed was erased. 

Zeal stared wide-eyed at the ferryperson and their… ferry. _Could this even count as a ferry…?_ It looked to be nothing more than a dinghy or a rowboat. If it were any smaller, Zeal would’ve probably called it a raft. _Of course, we had to be near the fucking water…_ they dug into their supplies to pull out a jacket, fire nervously twitching about their bones. 

Almost intrigued, the ferryperson murmured, “If your fight is not with Nightmare, then who-?” 

“Flowey.” Tat grit his teeth. “And if this _Completist_ asshole is supposed to be a help, then you’re gonna take us there.” 

_“Tat… you’re trusting Reaper…?”_ Edit asked mentally. 

Tat’s gaze flickered to his, a dark scowl on the tattooist’s face. _“I’m not trusting him. I’m trusting **you**. And since you trust him, I’m going along with it. Until he proves himself a threat to us.”_

_Well… that’s a start, I suppose…_ the thought was interrupted by laughter. The ferryperson’s laughter. Edit found it somewhat surprising that the laugh didn’t consist of ‘tra la la’ or ‘tre le le’, or some other variant. Instead, it was a chuckling sort of ‘HEHEHEHE’ that didn’t really ease any of their feelings. They found the breath to continue speaking, “Do you know what lies at the end of this river? Or rather, the beginning?” 

“What’s that gotta do with-?” Tat growled. 

Reaper stepped forward, joining at Tat’s side as a dark curtain does a stormy window. “Why do you guard him?” 

“Guard him?” Zeal blurted. “You mean _this guy_ is that guard you were talking about?” 

“I guard nothing,” the ferryperson denied. 

“You guard the beasts within this river, who in turn, guard Flowey,” Reaper smiled gently. “You don’t have to do this anymore-“ 

“Yes, I do. It’s the entirety of my purpose in life,” the ferryperson straightened, holding out one of their oars. “If I do not follow through on my purpose, then I should not be alive. _You should know this, Reaper, Elder God of Death.”_ The smile dropped from Reaper’s face. 

The gentle current of the water around them… stirred. Moving a little faster, disrupted by shifting things beneath the very surface. Terrified, Zeal grabbed for Edit’s jacket and hid behind him. Reaper and Tat formed their weapons simultaneously, and while the first watched the water, the second’s voice dropped with a surprising amount of understanding, “Who told you this? Who commanded you that your only purpose was guard and travel? You are more than this. You’re _capable_ of more than this-“ 

“I am not capable nor willing of disobeying orders,” a soft greenish yellow glow emanated from beneath the ferryperson’s hood. “You, little artist? _You should’ve stayed the empty ink well you were meant to be.”_


	25. Paths

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger Warnings:** Mild violence, moral questioning

Chaos rained from the river. It was from the moment the ferryperson raised one of their oars that dozens of grotesque creatures emerged from the body of water and descended upon the little party awaiting a ride. Reaper raised his scythe, easily slashing several of them into an early grave. Edit, in turn, yanked strings from his eyes and tried to lasso the creatures away from the others. There didn’t seem to be any clear plan behind their attacks beyond, perhaps, eating the now-unwanted guests. 

Unfortunately, Edit couldn’t let go of what the ferry person had said. “Tat is not an empty ink well! Whatever the fuck that means!” Edit snarled. 

“He was. He should still _be_ one, actually!” 

The artist ignored the pain those words caused him. “You are going to take us to the Completist.” _Whoever the fuck that is._

“And you?” the ferryperson turned that shadowed-yet-glowing gaze upon Edit. At once, several of the beasts turned their attentions to him as well. “You should’ve stayed the _destroyer._ You were much more useful as such. Especially to _him.”_

More golden strings dragged from his eyes, Edit slashed them outward, tangling a few creatures together. “Believe me, I can still _destroy.”_

That ‘HEHEHEHE’ laughter sounded from beneath the other’s hood again. “You cannot. You _hesitate_. Error does not hesitate, but Edit _does_.” 

“Nothing wrong with sparing a life.” 

“Is there, though?” the ferryperson murmured. “If that life has brought pain and misfortune upon another? Why should an abuser be spared? Why should a _torturer_ be spared?” 

Between him and Reaper capturing and killing the beasts stood Tat as he worked on a sigil. It wasn’t clear what the sigil was supposed to do, but with the artist’s arm around their genderfluid skelemental, Edit could only guess it was a protective type. Slightly distracted, Edit wondered how that would work. 

“You don’t want to do this!” Tat insisted. “You don’t have to follow this script! You take people along their own paths, right? Is that really the _only_ path you want for yourself? Don’t you have a vision for your future self?” 

“The only future I see is my continued existence leading eventually to my death.” Green-yellow magic shot towards Tat, hitting the tattooist square on the arm. Reaper and Edit turned towards him as he yelled out. “But my death will not come at any of your hands.” Beastly claws swiped Reaper’s scythe away in his moment of distraction while a slimy tendril lashed itself around Edit’s waist. 

Hissing, Edit slashed out with his strings and freed himself. “Tat!” 

_”Don’t get distracted!”_ Teeth gritting against the singed cloth and bone, Tat continued to paint his sigil in mid-air until a soap bubble formed around himself and Zeal. 

Unable to get closer without risking a painful death, the river beasts circled Reaper. Eyes flashing again, the ferryperson swung a magic-encased oar at the bubble. Each person there fully expected it to pop. 

Tat sneered just as the oar made contact and _shattered_. A thin drizzle of dark liquid trickled from his nasal cavity, but he refused to bow or shrink or fall. If anything, he forced his spine to straighten to stare challengingly at the ferryperson. “You wanna refuse to live your own life? Fine. Then continue your pre-destined life and _take us to the Completist.”_

The ferryperson stared, an undeniable air of shock around them at the obliterated wood of the oar settled around their ferry. Even the beasts became distracted by the destruction of something they must’ve never considered to be destroyable. Zeal found their own distraction in marveling at the delicate looking barrier Tat constructed from a symbol they’ve never seen before. Reaper hissed, shoving his way passed the beasts to stand with Zeal and Tat, just outside the barrier. Edit bolted over to stand on the other side of the barrier with an equally challenging expression, even as pain oozed throughout his mind. _This isn’t my pain, it’s Tat’s… oh stars, he’s pushed himself too far, hasn’t he?_

Aside from the breathing of each being there, the softest buzz of sigil magic, and Reaper’s cloak shifting as he shifted slightly, it was silent. Both sides stared at each other, trying to figure out the other’s move. Zeal exhaled shakily and turned their attention to the ferryperson. “Are you afraid to help us?” 

“…perhaps a little…” they responded. “Your enemy is with the world flower? You’re simply going to die. Whether that’s before or after he decides to use you lot for his purposes is besides the point. But if you _succeed?_ How would you win? How _could_ you win? It’s… inconceivable to me. And I don’t believe going up against the flower is a good idea.” 

Tat frowned. “As far as you should be concerned, we’re just visiting this Completist person.” 

Reaper gently intercepted, “We’ll need you to take us to Flowey too, old friend. If you’re willing.” 

The tattooist shot a glare at the god. _If they’re willing?! They just said-_

“It’s my duty to guide people along their paths.” Apparently drained, the magic died from beneath their hood, and the river beasts all slid back to where they belonged. “I doubt you’ll win, but on the off-chance you do… well, one shouldn’t hope for the impossible.” 

“You’re afraid,” Tat stepped forward. “If- _when_ we succeed, you won’t have somebody threatening you every day of your life to perform your life-duty. You’ll have to figure out what _you_ want to do, and that terrifies you. You would’ve been happier not even knowing that this was your predestined path all along.” 

The ferryperson stared at Tat. “…you say that as though you’ve experienced it.” 

A deep sadness welled up within Edit, just to be drained away and into Tat. “You could say something like that.” 

“Tre le le… very well… I don’t know why I bothered trying to stop fools in the first place…” the ferryperson motioned to their transport. “Shall we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is brought to you by a 4a sickly TK! Drink water, fellas. It might not solve everything, but it's definitely a start! 
> 
> (Hi bun, I promise I'm asleep now.... haha....)


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